Prophecy's Child
by Jeanie205
Summary: The refugees from Earth have been welcomed to the planet with two suns by those who came before them on the Eligius 3. But now there's a price to pay. In order to keep their people safe and well, Clarke and Bellamy must fulfill a prophecy that will require their becoming intimate. Will Clarke survive the emotional upheaval?
1. Chapter 1

She'd said no the first time her mother had asked. Quickly. Decisively. And the second and the third. But nothing seemed to put the matter to rest.

Clarke eventually stopped answering, because... _why bother?_ Bellamy would never go along with it anyway.

But then Abby and Kane cornered her on the way back to her quarters one evening, and Kane explained that he'd talked Bellamy around.

Clarke was stunned.

"But... what about Echo? I can't believe she'd sit still for..." she could feel her face heating and she shifted her eyes away from them, " _that_."

Kane sighed. "That's not really any of my business, Clarke, and I didn't ask. It's for Bellamy to sort out."

Abby gave her a sympathetic glance. "I know this might be... awkward for you, Clarke. I'm sorry about that. But we've tried every sort of negotiation you can imagine but they won't budge on this one demand. So unfortunately, it's the only way to save the situation. To save _us_."

"Awkward? That's what you think?" Then she shook her head impatiently. "I'm not a child, Mom."

Her eyes closed involuntarily as she contemplated what was being asked of her. Considering the stakes, if it were anyone else... _anyone at all_... she knew she would probably swallow her pride, write off any embarrassment as temporary, and just... get on with it.

But this was Bellamy. And he was not _hers_. _Could_ not be. Not even temporarily.

"I can't imagine he'd ever agree, no matter what you say. I'll only believe it if I hear it from his own lips."

XXXXXXXXXX

Clarke was so agitated by the time she made it back to their rooms that she didn't realize Madi was already there, tucked away in a corner, reading. It was one of the wonderful things about this place, this planet with two suns. The overabundance of reading material.

And in the three months they'd been there, Madi had been taking full advantage.

She looked up from her tablet when Clarke threw open the door, entered the room, and sank heavily onto their dilapidated couch.

"Clarke! What's wrong?"

"It's... nothing, Madi."

"It can't be nothing," the girl objected, putting the tablet away and moving across the room to sit next to Clarke. "Not when your face looks like that."

Clarke sighed. Madi knew her too well. She tried a different tack.

"It's just... grownup stuff."

Madi gaped at her. "Clarke! I'm thirteen years old, not a baby. And I'm the Commander! Or did you forget I had to lead an army back on Earth?"

"Of course not. I know how capable you are. But this is a... different kind of grownup stuff."

"I suppose it's something to do with sex, then." Her tone was utterly matter-of-fact.

"Madi!" Clarke's eyes closed briefly as she felt her face heating up. "I'm not discussing this with you."

"Why not? You were the one who explained about that stuff to me. What's the big deal?"

Clarke hesitated, wracking her brain for exactly what to say, but Madi was too quick and too perceptive.

"Does this have something to do with Bellamy?"

The girl looked so concerned that Clarke wanted to laugh, but somehow she couldn't. Couldn't laugh and couldn't dodge it. See knew she'd have to tell Madi something.

"It... _does_ have something to do with Bellamy, yes."

She leaned back, choosing her words, wanting desperately to explain in a way that would make sense to Madi without getting into detail that she was way too young to understand.

"Do you remember when we first got here, how the Eligians were so welcoming? How we kept waiting for them to be hostile, or at least wary, but they weren't?"

Madi nodded. They'd all been shocked to find that the people who'd already been there for more than a century had seemed nothing but pleased and excited that they'd arrived. Almost like they'd been... expecting them.

"And remember how you and I thought they might want to probe us or examine us in some way, but then the only thing they did was ask us to walk under that lighted arch they have in their infirmary?"

Madi nodded again, attentive, clearly waiting for Clarke to get to the point.

"Well, it turns out that arch is some kind of technology that can determine someone's DNA just by scanning them. You remember what DNA is."

"Yeah." Madi's face screwed up in confusion. "But I thought you had to take blood or saliva and do all sorts of tests."

Clarke shrugged. "The Eligians somehow figured out a way to get DNA just by using the scan. So they have the DNA of everyone who traveled with us. All of our people."

"And that's bad?"

"Not necessarily. But then there's..." Clarke took a deep breath as she came to the heart of the matter, "the prophecy."

Madi nodded. This was familiar territory. Grounder culture had been chock full of prophecies.

"And this prophecy says...?"

"That a child will be born. A special child. One who's going to save them."

"Save them from what?"

Clarke shrugged. "No one seems to know that. No one knows how the prophecy came to be, or even who the prophet was. But they all believe in it absolutely. That he'll come and save them in some dire circumstance."

"He?"

"Or she. That isn't clear either. The only concrete thing they seem to have is the DNA of the child's parents."

Madi took a quick breath as she began to catch on. "And that's... _you_." Then her eyes widened as the last piece of the puzzle dropped into place. "And Bellamy."

Clarke nodded unhappily. "Exactly. And now that the Eligians have found us, they're demanding that we... create this child. They refuse to consider any sort of agreement with our group about land, or housing, or trade, unless I... _we_... agree to this one term." She sighed. "Apparently, it's what's known in diplomatic circles as a dealbreaker."

Madi was quiet for a moment before offering tentatively, "You've already done so much, Clarke. Saved everyone so many times. To ask you to actually have a baby seems like it's expecting too much of you."

Clarke gave a quick nod and opened her mouth to respond, but Madi wasn't through.

"But... I don't think that's really it, is it? I think you'd do anything if you thought it would help our people. Even give birth to this baby. So, really," she said, her soft voice more hesitant with every word she spoke, "it's that it's with Bellamy."

Clarke gaped at her, groping for a response.

"There's no way they can make this baby in, I don't know, a test tube or something?" Madi asked, her brow wrinkling.

Clarke shook her head. "Maybe. That technology has been around for centuries. But they refuse to even consider it."

"So you and Bellamy would have to, uh..."

Clarke squared her shoulders, trying to maintain some dignity. She couldn't believe she was actually having this discussion with Madi.

"Yes," she murmured, nodding. Hoping Madi was satisfied enough with her explanation that this conversation could be over.

"Then, yeah, I can see why that would be a problem," Madi said bluntly, "considering how you feel about Bellamy."

"Madi..." Clarke began to protest, but Madi wasn't listening.

"Maybe you can fool the rest of them, Clarke, but I know better."

And Clarke found she had no response to that at all.

XXXXXXXXXX

When Bellamy tapped lightly on her door the following evening, Madi was asleep. Which was probably just as well. She opened up, and as they stood there in her doorway, Clarke wasn't sure which of them was the more embarrassed.

The truth was, she'd been avoiding him for days, ever since Abby had told her about the prophecy, and the child, and she'd become fully aware of what they wanted from her. She assumed they'd told Bellamy, too, and she just didn't think she could face him.

And now, here he was.

"Hey," she said quietly, not even really surprised to see him.

"Hey," he nodded, licking his lips nervously and ducking his head just a little. "Madi here?"

"She's asleep. So if you need to talk to her..."

"No," Bellamy said quickly. "It's you I came to see. I just thought it'd be better if she wasn't around for this conversation."

Clark sighed and gave him a twisted little smile, opening the door wider. "You'd better come in."

But once he was seated beside her on the couch, silence reigned. It seemed as though neither knew exactly how to begin.

They turned toward each other at exactly the same moment. "Clarke." "Bellamy."

When they laughed, the tension seemed to lift just a little. Clarke was still trying to figure out how to continue when Bellamy leaped into speech.

And he did not beat around the bush.

"I think we need to do this thing, Clarke."

She cocked a brow, wanting to make absolutely sure she understood him correctly.

He nodded. "Yeah, I mean we should have this baby."

Clarke frowned. "Having a child is not just _doing a thing_ , Bellamy. It's not something you agree to lightly. It's a lifelong commitment that you couldn't take back. We'd be creating a person, someone who would always be in our lives."

"Don't you think I know that! That I haven't been thinking about it for days! But no matter how I look at it, in the end, doing this means that we can save our people from being tossed out of this settlement and banished to who knows where. Haven't they already been through enough? If they can stay here, they'll be able to establish themselves. Be safe. Thrive. And isn't that why we came here?"

He paused for a moment before he reminded her softly, "Isn't that what Monty asked us to do? To take care of everyone?"

Bellamy gave her a sardonic little smile.

"I don't know, maybe he had some kind of crazy premonition that you and I would be the ones to make everything work. Not just as leaders, but... personally." He shrugged. "Anyway, that's how it seems to have played out. So... I've thought about it long and hard, Clarke, and I know I'm willing to make that kind of commitment. To being a father. But," he added, eyeing her closely, "I also know I can't make up your mind for you."

Clarke looked away. Everything he'd said was true. Every argument he'd given her was something she'd already told herself. More than once. But then, there was that one thing that he _hadn't_ mentioned.

"I know all that, Bellamy. And I maybe even agree with you. I'm pretty sure I could do this, too. But," Clarke felt her cheeks begin to flame as she continued, "this will involve us in intimacies that we don't have a right to. So far, you haven't said anything about that. About... Echo. I'm not going to turn you into a cheater."

She paused, watching as the flush rose beneath his tan skin.

"We've... worked it out."

"Worked it out? How could you possibly have worked it out? I mean, I'd never..." she stopped suddenly as she saw the pitfall before her.

Bellamy's brows drew together, and she hurried on before he could ask.

"What did she agree to?"

There was a short silence before he finally said, "Echo said she'd just think of it as something... clinical. Detached. Just a-a _bodily_ function. And it would be... just the one time."

And for some reason, as he said those very business-like words, his flush deepened and he looked away.

"Just the one time? Wow, she does have faith in your little swimmers, doesn't she?"

Bellamy snorted and shrugged, and suddenly they were both grinning at the absurdity of the situation.

"And what about us, Bellamy? You and me? If we have a child together, we'll be connected in some way... forever. Is that something you can live with?"

Bellamy's face twisted in surprise, as though that was the one question he hadn't anticipated.

"But we were always going to be connected forever, Clarke. You know that. This is just another layer of together."

His earnestness when he uttered those words was so palpable that they both warmed Clarke's heart and made it beat faster. Even though she knew damn well it wasn't the kind of _together_ she really wanted.

She sighed. "I'd need to meet with the Eligian Council, make sure I understand what they're asking of us. And that _they_ understand that this would still be _our_ child."

Bellamy was suddenly so still that it felt like he was holding his breath. And when he spoke, he was tentative.

"So you'll do it?"

Clarke nodded, not sure when she'd decided. Only that she had. "Yes. But I think we should plan on following Echo's formula."

He looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"It will be... clinical, detached. Just a normal human activity."

She watched his Adam's Apple bob up and down as he swallowed visibly.

But then he nodded.

"Of course. Whatever you say."

XXXXXXXXXX

By prearrangement, they met the next day with the Council Triumvirate, the three most eminent beings on the planet.

As they spoke, Clarke tried to get a feel for them as individuals, as she had so many times before. But as in the past, she found there was something... slippery about them. As though they didn't really want to be known.

Especially the woman, Oriana, who seemed to be the one in charge today. Although not once, even though they'd been asked many times, had the council admitted that any of the three was more important, more powerful, or more influential than either of the others.

"We are a triumvirate," they always declared quietly. "But we speak as one."

Clarke thought that was probably bullshit. She'd definitely put her money on the woman being the big gun. And she was the one to whom Clarke directed her questions now.

"Just so everyone understands, we're agreeing to have this child, but it will still be our child. We're not planning on giving it up. Ever."

She'd had enough of that with Madi. This child would at least have a normal childhood. Later, as an adult, he - or she - could choose their own destiny.

"Of course," Oriana answered for them all. "We would never imagine otherwise."

As Clarke nodded, she thought she might have seen the flicker of _something_ in one of the other councillor's eye, but before she could quite grasp it, Bellamy distracted her with a question of his own.

"So you really have no idea what this prophecy means? In terms of what danger your society faces that our... our child will save it from?"

One of the men answered. "None at all. But everything that has come down to us from the prophet has come to pass. Like all of you coming here. That's been one of our major prophecies for decades, and... here you are. If that has proven true, why should we doubt the rest?"

"And you don't know who the original prophet was? Only that his...her... predictions are in your archives?"

"Just so," the other man nodded. _Just so._ As though that were not at all strange.

Clarke sighed as she and Bellamy glanced at one another. They weren't, either of them, especially interested in that part of the equation. They just wanted to have all the facts. What they _really_ cared about were the other things. The welfare of their child, should there ever actually _be_ a child, and the safety and welfare of their people.

"And our people?" Clarke asked. She hadn't been privy to the original negotiations; that had been all Kane and Bellamy. So she wanted to hear it with her own ears. Hear what she was getting for not only agreeing to give birth, and becoming a biological mother, but also for enduring what she knew was bound to be profound emotional distress.

Oriana nodded pleasantly. "As soon as we hear that the child is on the way, your people will be granted permanent housing and trade rights. When the child is born, you will all become full citizens of Eligia. After all, we want the child - your child - to feel a part of this community."

"So our people will get to keep those homes you've built for them?" Bellamy asked directly.

"Of course. All will be as agreed."

Bellamy nodded, seemingly satisfied, before turning to Clarke. "Anything else before we go?"

"Nope. That's it."

But as they turned to leave, Oriana stopped them with a smile. The first, Clarke would swear, she'd ever received from the woman.

"Clarke, Bellamy, we are so grateful to you, and we wondered if you might like to make use of our finest guest quarters."

Clarke stopped, surprised, and glanced up at Bellamy. They had yet to talk about where it would all go down, and in truth that had worried her. Her rooms were out of the question. Even if she sent Madi away, Clarke just didn't want those kinds of reminders in her home. And as for Bellamy's place, she shuddered to even think about it.

"Guest quarters? Are they in this building?" She waved her hand around the official rooms.

"Oh, no, they are quite private. From the front door, you can just see them in the center of that lovely grove of trees on the hillside."

"So it's... an entire house?" Bellamy asked, his tone conveying his surprise.

"Just so," Oriana said.

Before Clarke had time to even think about it, Bellamy spoke again.

"Thank you. We'd be grateful."

And just like that, not only was Clarke about to have a clinical, detached, _business-like_ sexual encounter with Bellamy, it looked like she'd be having it in the honeymoon suite.

She knew she could hardly complain about comfort and privacy, but in her heart of hearts, she wondered how in the hell she was going to manage to survive it.


	2. Chapter 2

Even though Clarke was sure it was no longer viable, Abby had still insisted on removing her birth control implant.

"Really, Mom? After more than a century? It's not as if mechanical stuff like the implant went into cryo sleep. It would still have been aging. And besides, Harper got pregnant, even with her implant."

Abby smiled at her affectionately. "I know that, Clarke, but it never hurts to be certain."

As soon as the procedure was done, Clarke slid off the surgical table, but Abby clutched at her arm.

"What is it, Mom?"

"Good luck, Clarke," she said softly, enfolding her daughter in a warm hug.

Clarke pressed against her mother, breathing in her familiar scent.

"I'm not sure how much luck will be involved," she said. "You've already checked and said this is my fertile day, so it will probably... take."

Abby pulled back to search her daughter's face.

"I'm not just talking about you getting pregnant, although this is a terribly unselfish thing you're doing. But... I know what else it's costing you."

"Mom." Clarke sighed. She'd so far managed to put from her mind anything other than... getting the job done. "I just...I can't..."

"I know. But if... _when_... you do want to talk about it, I'll be here."

Clarke nodded silently. Maybe. But today wasn't the day.

No matter how unromantic the situation, Clarke had decided she wasn't getting into bed with Bellamy Blake without a little self-pampering. As it happened, that was another of the other great things about this strange little city on the planet with two suns. The Eligians seemed to have an endless supply of small luxuries like soap and hot water.

Back in her rooms, Clarke soaked in her bath for as long as she could, lingering in the unfamiliar comfort. Even so, she was done long before she needed to dress. And soon she was not only bathed and dressed, but pacing around the room, nervous as a cat.

She flopped onto the dilapidated couch and checked the time yet again. A half hour to go for a five-minute walk. It was when she realized she was actually wringing her hands that she finally said _fuck it_.

 _It wouldn't hurt to get there a little early._

As she slipped through the door, she tried desperately not to wonder how she'd feel by the time she returned.

Although she meandered up the sloping hill as slowly as possible, Clarke still arrived at the guest house fifteen minutes earlier than the appointed time. Using the key she'd been given, she opened the door, only to find that Bellamy was there ahead of her, sitting on a chair in what she supposed was the lounge.

He looked startled when he saw her.

"You're early."

"You're earlier," she shot back quickly, taking a chair opposite.

He gave a low chuckle. "I was nervous."

That brought her up short.

"What do you have to be nervous about? You been with lots of women. Back in the drop ship days, I think you slept with every attractive girl in the first three days."

He shrugged, smirking. "I was younger then, and stupid. Thought I was living out my last days. Besides," he said deliberately, "none of them was _you_."

"No," she agreed, catching his eye briefly, before they both looked quickly away.

"This is, uh, a pretty nice place," he offered. "No second-hand furniture here. There's even a big kitch..."

"Bellamy," she broke in abruptly.

"Yeah?"

"Let's just... get to it. I don't really feel like small talk."

"Okay," he nodded and rose, cocking his head behind him. "The bedroom is back there."

Clarke stood on shaky legs and followed him down a hallway to a large room. Her eyes widened when they landed on the biggest bed she'd ever seen. Bigger, even, than anything she'd come across in Polis.

For a moment, neither of them moved, then Bellamy dropped onto the edge of the bed and began to gently bounce up and down.

"Soft yet firm," he reported with a lopsided smile. "Why don't you try it out?" He patted the space next to him.

Clarke perched beside him on the edge, not too far away... but not too close. And definitely not touching. Despite all the times she'd found herself comforted by Bellamy's strong arms, in that moment she couldn't seem to make herself touch him.

She began to babble nervously.

"So how are we going to do this?"

Bellamy's eyes widened and he looked a little startled.

"Uh... the usual way, I suppose."

When she didn't reply, he picked up her left hand, using it as leverage to pull himself closer as he bent towards her.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, uh, I was going to kiss you."

And suddenly, Clarke couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand the thought of him kissing her like this. After all the times she might have _liked_ him to kiss her - but he hadn't - she couldn't deal with him doing it because he felt obliged to.

 _It would hurt too much._

"No kissing," she said suddenly, the words tumbling out before she even knew she was going to say them.

" _What?"_

Bellamy's brow wrinkled and he looked taken aback. She couldn't say she blamed him, since before that moment she, too, couldn't have imagined sex without kissing. But somehow they were going to have to manage it.

"Uh, how are we going to do this without kissing?"

"Use your imagination."

Bellamy sighed. "Can I at least touch you?"

She gave him a little smile. "Pretty sure we can't actually make a baby without touching."

He snorted, giving her a wry smile, then shrugged off his jacket. But when he reached toward to the hem of his t-shirt, she felt a spurt of panic.

"No."

"No... _what_?"

"I don't think we need to remove the clothing from the top half our bodies."

 _Because if I feel your naked chest crushed against my breasts, I'm not sure how I'll react._

And then he might figure out how much she wanted this. How much she wanted _him_.

Better to be safe.

Bellamy peered at her in silence, then bent to remove his shoes. When he lay back on the bed, he folded his arms under his head and said, "Okay, we'll do it your way."

Clarke had known he wouldn't argue or object to anything she wanted - or didn't want. That she'd easily gain control of the situation. So why did it feel like such a hollow victory?

She sighed, removing her own shoes and jacket and scooting over to lie next to Bellamy.

For a little while they were silent, until Bellamy finally reached over, grasping her around the shoulder and hauling her over until she was right next to him.

"It'll be okay, Clarke," he said softly. "There's nothing to worry about."

"I know," she said, turning to face him. And found that he was on his side, staring down at her.

 _So fucking close._

"Come here," he said, pulling her flush against him, both of them still fully clothed.

But it seemed that the clothes didn't matter. She could still hear his heart beating rapidly, still feel his hard body all along the length of her own. And even with all those layers of clothing between them, her untouched nipples began to harden, and her un-kissed lips began to tingle.

"Are you going to have trouble, uh... performing?" she whispered in his ear. "I mean, if we don't kiss? Or get completely naked?"

Bellamy made a sound that was halfway between a groan and a laugh.

"Believe me," he said softly, "that's not going to be a problem."

And a moment later, when she felt the hard length of him against her thigh, she knew he wasn't lying.

"Let's get under the covers," he murmured.

Twilight had turned to night by then, and as they pulled back the top layer of bedclothes, he asked if he should turn on a low light.

She shrugged. "Only if you want to. I'm used to the dark. Besides, with three moons in the sky there's always plenty of moonlight."

So he left the light off and climbed back onto the bed, immediately pulling her back into his arms so he could run his hands up and down her body.

"You can touch me, too, you know," he said softly. "In fact, I wish you would. I know this is a little... weird for us, Clarke, but you're still my best friend. I don't want to feel like I'm making... I mean, uh, having sex with a complete stranger."

"No, I know," she said, reaching around to caress his broad shoulders and run her hands up and down the muscled contours of his back.

And pretty soon, although there were no kisses, and they were still fully clothed, their bodies began to respond to the light caresses, and to move around in ways that brought them ever closer. Until finally they were twisting and writhing against one another in an age-old dance.

When Clarke felt his now fully-hard cock pressed against her clit, it was all she could do not to moan. And when he began to grind against her, she ruthlessly suppressed every instinct that told her to pull Bellamy's head down and thrust her tongue into his mouth.

But she could not suppress the tingle between her legs that had by now become a raging fire. Nor the wetness that was seeping out and running down her legs.

"Clarke," Bellamy moaned, stroking down her body with one hand and along her cheek with the other. "At least let me kiss your cheek. You kissed my cheek once and I've never forgotten it."

"All right," she said, her voice coming out soft and breathy.

And soon she felt his lips running up and down the side of her face, leaving dozens of little kisses in their wake.

He pulled back suddenly, staring at her with hot brown eyes. Clarke knew desire when she saw it, and was thrilled.

 _For all that she knew she shouldn't be._

"Can you touch me here?" he asked, grabbing her hand and placing it over the hard cock that was clearly outlined in his pants.

"Yes," she nodded, grasping him, and rubbing her palm up and down his length.

"Thank god," he muttered, groaning. After only a few moments, he clutched at the waistband of Clarke's pants and said, "I think maybe we need to get these off you now."

"Okay," she said quietly. "Let me do it."

But as she slid her pants over her ass, she wondered what in the hell she was waiting for. So she grabbed onto her underpants, too, and seconds later she was naked from the waist down.

As she lay back, Bellamy gaped at her half-naked body, and she didn't know how he could fail to see the evidence of her arousal in the wet streaks that glistened on her thighs in the moonlight.

"My turn," he said, quickly pushing down his pants and briefs until he, too, was only half-clothed.

They stared at one another, and when Clarke moved her hand against his chest, she could feel the hammering of his heart through his thin t-shirt.

At that moment, she hadn't a doubt in the world that they were both thinking the exact same thing. That after all these years, they could hardly believe what it was they were finally about to do.

"Please touch me again, Clarke," Bellamy breathed.

She grabbed onto his cock and began to palm him firmly, while he reached over to stroke gently between her legs.

And this time, she couldn't suppress her moan.

"Will you be all right?" he asked. "I know it's... been a while since you were with a man."

"Yes," she breathed. "Can't you feel how wet I am?"

"Fuck, Clarke. Yeah, I can. And it's making me fucking nuts. I need... that is... do you think you're ready for me? Because I really need to be inside you right now."

She could hear that need in the rasp of his voice.

"Yes," she breathed, lying back and splaying her body across the bed.

"You don't want to be on top?" he whispered, and she couldn't help huffing out a little laugh, despite the circumstances. That he knew her so well, and how much she liked being in charge.

"No," she shook her head back and forth across the pillow. "You can take the lead on this one."

Bellamy smiled a little as he moved over her.

"Okay, but let me know if I'm hurting you."

Then it seemed he couldn't wait even a second longer. She felt his body cover hers, and before she could even consider how odd it was that they still had their shirts on, he'd slid inside her in one smooth stroke.

They both groaned.

"Clarke," Bellamy breathed. "You feel so fucking good."

 _He_ knew, and _she_ knew, that he wasn't supposed to be saying things like that to her, but she nevertheless stored up his small confession. To be pulled out of her memory banks when this night became too painful to remember.

After that, there there was no time for thinking. Or considering. There was only feeling.

Bellamy set a steady pace, stroking in and out of her strongly, and without a thought she lifted her legs and wrapped them tightly around his torso. He groaned, burying his face in her neck, and began to move faster.

The pleasure was enormous, and she knew instinctively that it was for him, too. So after a while she wondered at the degree of control he had, at how it was he'd kept from climaxing.

Until he lifted his head and looked at her and panted out, "Come on, Clarke, just let yourself go."

 _He was waiting for her._

But that would be wrong, wouldn't it? That wasn't why she was there.

"It wouldn't be right," she told him.

"Are you fucking kidding me! If you think I'm going to come and you're not, you're out of your mind."

He reached down and began to rub her clit, first with feather-light strokes and then more firmly, watching her face intently. And soon Clarke was writhing beneath him, all thought of denying herself gone.

Her orgasm came upon her suddenly, powerfully, and then Bellamy was coming, too, long and hard, emptying himself into her.

He collapsed beside her, keeping his weight from her and burying his face in her neck as they fought to catch their breath. And then he was smiling and pulling her close, wrapping her up in his arms.

"You okay?"

"Of course! Did you think fucking you would be the death of me?" she teased, smiling in return.

"But what a way to go!" he declared, his eyes twinkling.

Clarke rolled her eyes and groaned. "Ego out of control much?"

They both laughed, and it was the most light-hearted she'd felt all day.

A moment later when she tried to ease away from him and out of the bed, he grabbed at her and said, "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

Clarke blinked. "Well, um, we're done here."

"We're not." He shook his head and pulled her back against him. "Don't you remember? You're supposed to lie here for a while to give my, uh, stuff the best chance to do its thing."

Clarke nodded. She recalled now that her mother _had_ told them that.

"But you don't have to stay, Bellamy."

He looked at her like she was crazy. "I'm not leaving you here on your own."

"I'll be fine."

"Yeah, I know. But I won't. Besides, we hardly ever get a chance to just talk."

Clarke cocked a brow at him. " _This_ is when you want to talk?"

He shrugged. "Why not? Good a time as any. Why don't you, uh, tell me about Madi? What she was like as a little kid. She's so extraordinary, I sometimes forget she _is_ a kid."

Clarke smiled. "I've got a million Madi stories, but I've never had anyone to tell them to."

"I'm all ears," he said, pulling up the bedclothes to cover their nakedness, and wrapping his arm securely around her.

So Clarke began to talk, and as one story led to another, and then the conversation shifted and changed, neither of them noticed when the other began to yawn. Or when their eyes fluttered shut.

The next thing Clarke knew, there was a thin grey beam of light streaming through the window, and Bellamy was standing by the bed, fully dressed, gently shaking her awake.

"Clarke," he said quietly, "It's morning. I guess we fell asleep. I, uh... I have to go." He frowned. "I really don't want to leave you here, but at least it's light out now."

"Don't be silly, Bellamy," she said, her voice sleep-strained. "I told you last night. I'll be fine."

"I know," he said, reaching down as though to brush his hand across her cheek, stopping himself before he could make contact.

"Don't forget, I want to be there when you see Abby for the test."

"I remember. Three days. She told me three days, just to be sure."

Bellamy nodded, and with one last lingering look he was out the door.

The skin on Clarke's cheek began to tingle in the exact spot where Bellamy had _not_ touched her, and as she reached up to soothe it she understood very well that the hard part had just begun.

XXXXXXXXXX

Three mornings later, Clarke and Madi were having breakfast in the common room when Bellamy suddenly slid into the seat next to her. She'd seen him every day, of course, spoken to him many times as they went about the daily business of helping run their community.

But they'd had nothing like the time or opportunity for a personal conversation.

"Hey, Bellamy," Madi said, and then quickly declared herself finished. She'd picked up her tray and left with a wave before Clarke could say a word.

"Like that wasn't obvious or anything," Clarke groaned.

Bellamy shrugged. "She knows we have important business."

"Right. I suppose we might as well get to it."

Abby looked up when they entered the health clinic a few minutes later, and her smile told Clarke she'd been expecting them.

"Just let me put these instruments away," she said, "and then we can do the test."

It took only seconds for Clarke to give her mother a urine sample, and then she went into the hall to wait with Bellamy while Abby performed the necessary test.

But when Abby reappeared fifteen minutes later, she was frowning.

"Clarke, Bellamy, I don't know how to tell you this. I ran the test three times, just to be sure, and... I'm sorry, but it looks like Clarke isn't pregnant after all."

Clarke couldn't believe it! All that emotional trauma, and it hadn't even worked?

"But... what about the agreement," she asked, her head snapping toward Bellamy. "The prophecy?"

But when she saw how he was staring at her, at the stunned expression on his face, it suddenly came to her like a physical blow that he'd already figured it out.

 _They were going to have to do it again._


	3. Chapter 3

_At first_ , _Clarke had just felt numb_.

There'd been a plan, dammit! And for once it _hadn't_ been one that shamed her or filled her with guilt.

After all the terrible things she'd done in her short life, all the deaths she'd been responsible for, it had seemed like a miracle that _this_ time she'd been asked to help her people not by destroying life but by creating it.

The irony was that once she'd gotten used to the idea, once she'd thrown herself into the plan head-on, she'd actually begun to warm to it. In the chaos that was her life, who knew if... or when... she might ever have another chance at motherhood.

And to have _Bellamy's_ child? She didn't try to fool herself. That was a gift.

Despite the crap circumstances... and she wasn't trying to fool herself on that score, either... wasn't it better to create a child with someone she cared for than to find herself scrabbling for a chance at motherhood at some unknown time in the future with a man she might not give a damn about?

So she'd told herself she could do this. Have Bellamy's baby, co-parent with him to raise it, and be okay with all of it. That she could even survive the intimate encounter with him that biology required. _And then school herself never to look back on it._ To think only of the child and never dwell on how it came into existence.

That had been the plan.

And it had all been shot straight to hell.

It was bad enough that there was little chance she'd ever be able to forget her night with Bellamy. Worse yet, after expending all that emotional capital, she hadn't even gotten pregnant! So if they were to keep their bargain with the Eligians, she'd now have to subject herself to a further reminder of exactly what it was she _could not have._

So, yes, just at first, Clarke was simply numb.

But she soon began to feel again, and what she felt was anger. And _hurt_.

Because after Bellamy gave her that one stricken, knowing glance, he suddenly took off, leaving her with no more explanation than a quick, "Sorry. I've... gotta go."

It felt like a punch to the gut.

Was the prospect of having to be with her again so distasteful that he had to run from the very idea of it?

"I'm so sorry, Clarke," Abby said, wrapping a comforting arm around her. "I really thought if we timed it just right, once would be enough." She shrugged. "We know a lot more now than we used to, but human fertility is still not an exact science. But I'm sure that the next time..."

"The next time? Did Bellamy look like he was interested in a next time?"

Abby's next words told her she'd caught the hurt Clarke hadn't been able to hide.

"Clarke." Her voice was soothing. "I'm sure his reaction had nothing to do with that. Nothing to do with you at all."

"No? Well, then why the hell did he just leave like that? I know he was upset it didn't work, but so was I! Don't you think we should have at least talked about it?"

Abby shook her head. "Of course! But if you just think about it for a moment, I'm sure you'll realize..."

"I don't want to think about it, Mom! I want to forget it ever happened."

When she turned to leave, Abby put out a hand to stop her.

"Clarke, wait a minute."

But Clarke shook off her hand.

"I've gotta go, Mom," she said, in unconscious echo of Bellamy's words from only minutes earlier.

She was out the door before Abby could say another word.

XXXXXXXXXX

There weren't many in their small community who knew about the prophecy, or the bargain with the Eligians. Or that Clarke and Bellamy were trying to conceive a child. Or how much the community's ultimate welfare might depend upon their success.

As she made her way back to her rooms she tried hard to avoid those who _did_ know. Like Kane. Or Jackson. It wasn't a moment where she could deal with Kane's kind eyes or Jackson's sympathetic nod.

But she couldn't avoid Madi, who was already delirious with excitement by the time Clarke got home. As soon as she walked through the door, Madi threw herself at Clarke and began to pepper her with questions.

"Are you sure the Triumvirate will keep its word? How long til you know if it's a girl or a boy?"

The questions perfectly reflected how torn Madi so often was these days between the responsibilities of being the Commander and the joys of being a child. Especially one who was a prospective big sister.

Clarke knew she should probably let both the child and the Commander ease into their disappointment, but somehow she just couldn't.

"I'm not pregnant, Madi," she said, interrupting the interrogation bluntly.

"Oh. _Oh."_ Madi frowned. "I don't understand. I thought... are you sure you did it right?"

Clarke snorted, pulling Madi onto the couch for a hug, almost welcoming the moment of levity in what had been a very trying morning.

"Positive."

"Then how come... why didn't his sperm fertilize your egg? Isn't that how it works?"

Clarke nodded, her smile wry. "Yes. You learned your lesson on human reproduction very well. And lots of times, if you hit it just right, it only takes the one time to conceive." She shrugged. "But sometimes not. Sometimes it takes... more times."

Madi nodded. "So you'll have to do it again."

Her assertion was so offhand, so matter-of-fact, that Clarke knew Madi hadn't intended to be unfeeling. But it had hurt nonetheless.

Thanks to the AI in her head and her own harsh life experience, in many ways Madi was an unusually mature girl. But in others, she was still very much a child. So while she was aware of the mechanics of conception, she was decidedly innocent of any knowledge of the emotional cost of human intimacy.

And Clarke was more than happy to have her stay that way for at least a few more years.

Still, it did make explanations difficult. Madi understood that Clarke had feelings for Bellamy, but not how much those feelings had been laid bare by their physical intimacy. That the act itself was the one place she couldn't hide from them.

And that a repeat performance was likely make it worse.

"I... suppose we might," Clarke said finally. "We didn't really talk about it."

Madi looked puzzled. "But what does Bellamy think? Should I - should I ask him about it?"

Clarke tried to picture it. Madi asking. Bellamy responding.

It almost made her laugh. But not quite.

She shook her head.

"No, Madi. I know these are your people and you're worried about them, but you need to let us handle it ourselves. You're going to have to trust us on this."

Madi nodded solemnly. "I do trust you, Clarke. And Bellamy. I just don't know if I trust the Triumvirate."

XXXXXXXXXX

It was astonishing, she realized after a couple of weeks, how she and Bellamy could both go about their daily round of administrative responsibilities and yet barely see each other.

The first week, she noticed him consulting with Miller about security issues, but it was from well across the large room they'd been offered by the Eligians to conduct their business. And a few days later, when she initiated a necessary inventory of supplies, he rounded up people to assist with the heavier items. Clarke nodded her thanks, but Bellamy's eyes met hers only briefly, sliding away almost immediately.

"No problem," he said. "Always happy to help with anything you need."

He must have caught the irony of that remark the second it came out of his mouth, because his startled eyes flew back to hers and caught. And held. Then his face flushed and his expression became wary.

Clarke couldn't resist what seemed like an opening.

"Bellamy. Maybe we should..."

"Sorry, Clarke," he said, his eyes shifting away again. "No time to stop and chat. Whatever it is will have to wait."

 _Chat?_

Clarke felt her frustration rise, but she knew Bellamy. They weren't going to be talking until he was ready. And right at the moment something was holding him back.

A few nights later, just as twilight was falling, she caught sight of him on the other side of the large central plaza, apparently deep in conversation with Echo. Yet only moments later, out of the corner of her eye, Clarke watched them drift off in different directions with nothing that looked like it might have been a goodbye.

It seemed... curious. As she moved past them, some twenty yards away, she tried to disguise her interest, but when Echo looked up at just the wrong moment, their eyes caught and they were both startled into stopping. As they stared at one another for those few seconds, Clarke found Echo's expression unfathomable.

Not hate, she was certain. Or enmity. She'd definitely seen enough of both those looks from Echo in the bad old days on Earth to know that wasn't what she was seeing now.

Not even, really, hostility.

And then she caught it. _Contempt_. Echo was contemptuous of her.

Clarke sighed and hurried on her way, understanding well that she had no power over Echo's perceptions.

When another week had moved her body closer to a new cycle, Clarke decided she should begin to monitor herself, just in case. So the next day she rose a little earlier than usual and walked across the plaza to the clinic.

Abby always claimed that the early morning hours were the least busy, so she'd expected to find the place deserted. But as she stepped through the outer door, moving down the hallway toward her mother's office, she could hear the voices of two women, both raised, both agitated.

"...but I know what you've done!"

"That's... ridiculous, Echo! I would never do such a thing. And neither would Clarke!"

"What is it I would never do, Mom?"

By then, Clarke had reached the office doorway to find her mother and Echo engaged in a heated discussion. Apparently about her.

Her sudden appearance seemed to momentarily startle them, but then Echo whirled to confront her.

And there it was again. _The contempt._

"I don't know which of you it was, Wanheda," Echo said, her tone perfectly matching her expression. "Or what means you used. Perhaps you found something on this planet to substitute for the tea the Azgeda healer used to brew when a child was not desired. Or maybe you still have that implant after all."

"Echo, I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Of course you do! One of you has made certain you did not get pregnant last month."

Clarke sputtered. "But that's crazy! Why would we - either of us - do that? We need to have that child to fulfill our bargain with these people. You know that!"

"Yes, and I'm sure you'll eventually let yourself become pregnant. But not just yet."

Clarke gaped at her. "It's impossible to ensure the timing of a pregnancy. Even if the conditions are just right and..."

"In Azgeda, the women had no such trouble," Echo assured them confidently, her arms folding across her chest to emphasize her certainty.

"Well, maybe all those Azgeda women were awash in fertility," Clarke said, halfway between amused and outraged. "Not to mention the men. But here in the real world, it can sometimes take more than one try."

"Oh, I am sure it will take many tries," Echo agreed, her lips twisting. "And for every one of them you will no doubt need to spend all night in bed with Bellamy."

So... that was it. Clarke was silent, appalled that Echo could imagine such a thing.

Then a terrible thought struck her.

"And does Bellamy believe in this conspiracy, too?"

Echo shook her head. "No, Wanheda. He believes everything you tell him, just like always."

Relief coursed through her, but she still had no idea what the hell to say to Echo.

"It's not true," she said finally. "Whatever you may think, I wouldn't deceive Bellamy like that."

"Why should I believe you?"

Clarke sighed. "I can't think of any way to convince you, so I'm not going to try. Believe what you like."

This time, it was Echo who was left gaping, as Clarke turned to her mother.

"I'll be back later, Mom. This is clearly not a good time."

She left the clinic then, and as she made her way back across the square Clarke felt the warmth from the early morning sun drain some of the tension from her shoulders.

Echo's unexpected accusations had been unsettling, but no more so than her own reaction to them.

She'd wanted to rail at the woman, shout at her. _He was mine first! You're only with him because I wasn't there! I was stuck on the ground waiting for him to come home. To me_.

But she knew the first part wasn't true. Bellamy had _never_ been hers. They'd been too afraid, or too distracted, or the timing had never been right. She'd had six years to think about how much she regretted all of it.

As to the rest? Everything about their last hours together before _praimfaya_ hit had seemed like an unspoken promise. In her gut, Clarke had always believed that if fate hadn't torn them apart, she and Bellamy would finally have had the time to explore their long-simmering feelings for one another

But maybe she'd been wrong.

XXXXXXXXXX

Bellamy arrived at her door later that same evening, but this time his knock wasn't soft and he wasn't playing the supplicant.

Madi was home, but she took one look at the thundercloud that was his face and gathered up her tablet.

"I'm going to see Gaia," she said quickly. "We're reading _The Count of Monte Cristo_."

"Okay, don't be too late," Clarke said distractedly as Madi scooted by Bellamy and out the door.

"So, do you want to sit?" she asked as soon as the girl left.

Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own.

"What happened this morning, Clarke? At the clinic."

Clarke felt her face heat as she remembered Echo's accusations. She supposed could refuse to answer, or try to play it down, but what was the point? She went with the unvarnished truth.

"Echo accused me - or Mom, she wasn't sure which of us actually did the deed - of sabotaging our attempt to conceive a child."

"What?" He sounded surprised, like that wasn't at all what he'd expected, and his irritation seemed to morph into confusion "But... why? What possible motive could you have?"

Clarke sighed. It wasn't a subject she really wanted to discuss with him, but she'd be damned if she was going to be embarrassed about something she hadn't even done.

Raising her chin, she looked squarely at Bellamy.

"I'd think that might be obvious."

For an instant he blinked in confusion, but then a dull red began to suffuse his face as he finally caught on.

"Oh," he said, suddenly unable to meet her eye. "But that's nuts. I mean, I had to talk you into this."

"That's not quite how I remember it," she said, her smile wry. "But... I am sorry to be the cause of any problems between you and Echo."

Bellamy frowned, and some of his annoyance seemed to return. "You're not," he said. "Why do you think everything's about you?"

Clarke's jaw dropped. "I _don't_ think that! But you're the one who asked..."

"Yeah? Well, it's got nothing to do with you!"

" _What_ doesn't?" Clarke's head was starting to spin. "What is it that doesn't have anything to do with me?"

"If it doesn't have anything to do with you, then maybe it's none of your business!"

"Bellamy, you're the one who came here, remember?" Clarke was beginning to get angry herself. "If whatever's bugging you doesn't concern me, then what are you doing on my doorstep?"

Bellamy stared at her for a moment, then he sighed. "I... what I meant to say was that none of this is your fault, so I don't want you to feel responsible."

 _None of what?_ she longed to ask, but she knew it would be futile. Bellamy wasn't going to tell her what the hell was going on until he was good and ready.

But she forgot everything else when he suddenly cleared his throat and said, seemingly out of nowhere, "So I think we should definitely try again."

Just like he hadn't been avoiding that _very_ conversation for weeks.

"You can let me know when it's the right day."

Clarke couldn't believe it. _That was it?_ No long, painful discussions about taking another bite of the forbidden fruit?

Well, okay then.

"All right," she said, striving hard to be equally nonchalant. "It should be just a few days. I'll, uh, let you know."

He gave her a curt nod.

"Good," he said, walking out the door.

"Good," she said, slamming it behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a morning exactly a week later that Abby took Clarke's temperature and advised that she was ovulating again. Clarke considered slipping Bellamy a secret note at the daily planning meeting, but finally decided that discretion was called for, not theatrics.

Instead, she stopped him as he was leaving, happy to find that for once he'd emerged alone.

"Tonight, right after dinner," she said, her voice clipped and business-like.

For a moment he looked startled but recovered quickly.

"Right," he nodded, his deep voice skittering along Clarke's spine as she suddenly recalled exactly what kind of date they were making. "I'll see you then."

For the rest of the day, try as she might, Clarke found it impossible to focus on the simplest of tasks.

She told herself she was being ridiculous. That this time there was no need for nerves. That she knew everything that was going to happen because they'd done it all before.

But that only succeeded in reminding her what it had felt like to have him touch her, to have him stroke her. To have him push himself inside her.

It wasn't until she was in her bath, watching her nipples harden and feeling the wetness gather between her legs - moisture that owed nothing at all to the warm bath water - that she admitted it to herself: in a few hours she was going to fuck Bellamy Blake again, and the mere anticipation of it had her incredibly turned on.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the tingle between her legs. Hoping like hell she'd manage to survive the night with her heart intact.

Clarke left for their appointment well ahead of time, determined to get there first, to have a chance to gather herself mentally and prepare herself emotionally.

She may as well not have bothered.

When Bellamy opened the door and found her sitting in the far corner of the lounge, he looked surprised. But when she rose and said, "So, here we are again," his eyes seemed to burn as he stared at her intently.

As though maybe he, too, had been remembering. And anticipating.

But all he said was, "Yeah, maybe we'll get it right this time."

As he moved across the room towards her, Clarke could feel the uptick in her heart rate. So she hurried to ask him the one question she was determined to get an answer to. Before she got distracted. Before it was too late.

"So then, uh, doing this again is okay with Echo?"

Bellamy halted, his eyes narrowing, and for a few seconds she thought maybe he wasn't going to answer.

But then he shook his head. "Not really," he said flatly.

 _Not really?_ Clarke felt her heart drop into her stomach.

"Then we can't do it..." she began to insist.

"But then it isn't really up to her," he interjected, moving towards her again.

"What does that mean?"

Bellamy shrugged, but continued his steady pace across the room. "It means we broke up."

They broke up? But...? She shook her head in confusion.

"Bellamy, I don't understand..."

"I don't want to talk about it right now, Clarke."

He'd reached her by then, was standing right in front of her, and when he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, every nerve ending in Clarke's body responded.

"So are we going to do this?" he asked, his voice soft and low.

Clarke gazed up at him, trying to think of a good reason why she should deny him. And as her pulse pounded and her breath caught, she couldn't come up with a single one.

"Yes," she murmured after a moment, "isn't that why we're here?"

He nodded. "Good. Then I'd like to propose an amendment to our rules."

Bellamy was still stroking her cheek and Clarke was finding it hard to think.

"Our rules? I don't..."

"Yeah," he whispered, his eyes dropping to her lips. "I was thinking we don't need that _no_ _kissing_ rule anymore."

Her mind went blank as he bent his head. "I suppose," she breathed.

His quiet voice was deep and throaty. "That's what I figured."

And then he was kissing her.

She thought - inasmuch as she could think at all - that perhaps he'd intended it to be sweet. A sweet, soft first kiss. But it took only seconds for the kiss to change, to become something altogether different. When Bellamy pulled her flush against him, she wound her arms around his neck, and soon they were twisting against one another, hands grasping and stroking, lips pressing harder and deeper.

In the blink of an eye the soft kiss had become wild and frenzied and out of control.

Soon instinct took over and Clarke thrust her tongue into Bellamy's mouth. Or maybe it was him, thrusting his tongue into her. She didn't know or care how it had happened, only that his tongue was there, sliding against her own, their hot breath mingling, their bodies moving impossibly closer as they strove for ever greater contact.

When Bellamy pressed against her, backing her into the wall, she suddenly felt the hot, heavy length of him hard against her stomach. Clarke raised herself on her toes, desperate to feel that length in a slightly different spot, and he must have understood. He crouched a bit - just enough - and soon his cock was grinding against her exactly where she wanted it.

 _Exactly where she needed it._

And despite all the layers of clothing, that steady grinding motion was bathing her body in waves of pure bliss.

Through it all they never stopped stroking and kissing, tongues tangling, until Bellamy finally pulled slightly away, gasping for air, moaning, "Oh, fuck, Clarke," in her ear.

His palm slid down her body, and he loosened the waist of her pants just enough to slip his hand inside, cupping her sex through her dampened panties. When she moaned, panting, he pushed aside the scrap of cloth and shoved two fingers inside her while he buried his face in her neck.

Clarke heard the squelching sound through her haze of arousal, and she knew he couldn't miss how wet she was. Or fail to understand much she wanted him.

She palmed his cock through his trousers, gripping him tightly, squeezing and rubbing, until Bellamy pulled back, breathing hard, searching her face. They stared at one another as they pleasured each other, Bellamy thrusting his fingers inside her, Clarke grasping him firmly through his clothing. Until finally he gave a low and desperate groan.

He pulled his fingers out of her, grabbing at the waist of her pants with both hands, loosening them and pulling them and her panties over her ass and down her body. When she kicked her clothing aside, instinct and desire had her widening her stance lewdly, leaving her completely open to him.

Bellamy's breath was coming in short pants as he stared down at her sex, and he reached through the springy blonde curls to gently stroke her clit with his right hand while he ran his left across the lush curve of her ass. When Clarke began to moan, he glanced up at her face, watching her intently.

She could smell herself then, knew the scent was her arousal, but was too far gone to care.

In a sudden frenzy of need, Clarke reached out, scrabbling and grabbing ineffectually at Bellamy's belt. Until finally he pulled his hands away from her body to take care of his own. He opened the belt in quick, jerky movements, sliding down his pants and briefs in a single movement until his cock sprang free.

It looked long and heavy, and just as hard as Clarke remembered it.

He grabbed at her waist, balancing her torso against the wall with his knee, while he lifted her legs up and around him, so she could wrap them tightly about his waist. When Bellamy looked down at her, Clarke saw the same heavy haze of desire in his eyes that was coursing through her like a hot wave.

Then he shifted, just slightly, just enough to plunge himself into her in one smooth easy motion, pinning her against the wall. One of his strong arms was locked under her ass, while the other was pressed against the wall by her head, balancing them both.

"You okay?" Bellamy muttered in a choked voice, and when she nodded, his hips began to rotate as he moved inside her.

"Bellamy," she breathed, barely coherent.

For several long seconds, Clarke's cunt pulsed around him, throbbing and aching with want. And then he was thrusting strongly into her, his strokes long and deep, while she held on tightly and buried her face in his neck.

And suddenly, it was all too much. Too arousing, too exciting. _Too overwhelming._

Seconds later, Clarke came hard, moaning softly as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her body. Bellamy groaned deeply, pushing in hard, and then his cock was pulsing and pulsing, until he was gushing deep inside her.

The world ground to a halt, their moans of pleasure and satisfaction filling the room as they fought for breath. As she felt herself coming down from her high, Clarke held onto Bellamy's shoulders tightly, unlocking her legs from around his waist and lowering them shakily to the floor.

They stood there for a few minutes, arms wrapped around each other, until Clarke slid bonelessly to the floor, leaning back against wall. Bellamy followed her down and soon they were sitting silently side by side, their breathing once again strong and regular.

After a moment, he peered at her from beneath hooded eyes.

"Having it happen like that... was that okay, Clarke?" His voice was a little uncertain.

She side-eyed him, perplexed.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Bellamy looked a little abashed, a tiny bit chagrined.

He cleared his throat.

"Well, uh, we're here for a reason, and I thought that was maybe a little too rough."

Clarke stared at him for just a second, and then snorted.

"Um, did you happen to notice how fucking turned on I was?"

His lips curved into her favorite half-smile, and then he shrugged, and the smile became a smirk.

"Yeah, I thought maybe you were liking it..."

"Shut up," she said without heat, poking at him, and he laughed and threw an arm around her, pulling her close, kissing her temple softly.

"Well, I think we must have got the job done this time." He smiled at her.

Clarke stared down at herself, at his semen pooling onto the floor beneath her.

"Maybe," she said, shrugging.

And just like that, as though a switch had been flipped, they both suddenly remembered that they were still half-naked, and that this was not a relationship, nor an affair. They were still just "Clarke and Bellamy." Friends. Partners. Would-be co-parents.

But only temporary lovers.

Clarke felt herself blushing as she scrambled to dress herself. Bellamy turned away to give her her some privacy, and by the time she was completely dressed, so was he.

He helped her up, holding onto her hand for just a heartbeat longer than was strictly necessary, and Clarke understood that if there was a moment in that evening that could be dangerous to her heart, this was it.

"We should go," she said suddenly, wary of the temptation of being alone with Bellamy for too long. Especially now.

"Right," he nodded, and he only looked a little surprised. "I've, uh, got some security assignments to figure out for tomorrow, anyway."

"Go ahead. I'll clean up our, uh, mess." And then she was blushing again.

"Yeah," he nodded, a little embarrassed. "Good. Thanks. You'll be okay? It's still light out, so..."

"Don't worry about me, Bellamy. I can take care of myself."

The half-smile appeared again, accompanied by a nod to acknowledge her competence. Then he gave her a little salute and made his way towards the door.

"Wait!" She stopped him with his hand on the knob, and he turned, brow wrinkling.

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me now why you and Echo broke up?" She asked it all in a rush. "Was it because of this... project?"

He was silent for several moments, and she thought maybe he wasn't going to answer, that she'd pushed too far into things that were not any of her business. But somehow, she still had to ask, still needed to know.

Then finally he shrugged and said, "Not really. It wasn't so much the, uh, project itself. It was... what would come afterwards."

"Afterwards?"

He sighed. "She wanted me to give you up, Clarke. As a friend and a partner. And to co-parent only from a distance. To barely have contact with you."

Clarke stilled, feeling her throat close, like maybe she'd forgotten how to breathe.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he said, his eyes piercing hers, "but I'm never gonna do that. Because I can't lose you again."

"No," she agreed, nodding, her lungs working once more, "not again."

As soon as Bellamy left, Clarke moved quickly to tidy up that one small corner of the lounge. But when she was done, she found she wasn't quite ready to leave. Wasn't quite ready to go home. Wasn't quite ready jump back into what had by now become her routine. Her new normal.

Instead, she needed a few moments of privacy, somewhere quiet to think.

She dropped back into the chair in the far corner of room, the one she'd been sitting in when Bellamy'd arrived, and turned over in her mind everything she'd learned.

Bellamy and Echo were no longer a couple. And that was mostly, he told her, because he refused give up his friendship, partnership - _parentship_ \- with Clarke.

So it seemed like it must be important to him to have her in his life.

If only she could figure out exactly what for.

After a while, she realized that the sun had gone down while she'd been sitting there musing, and she imagined how concerned protective Bellamy would be if he learned she'd had to walk home alone in the dark after all. Her lips tugged up in a small smile as she thought about how little she really needed his protection these days. Yet how very much she cherished it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Clarke was pretty sure of the outcome even before she took herself to the clinic. But it was the third day, and she went anyway, just to make certain.

Bellamy had a meeting scheduled and couldn't go with her, but it hadn't mattered.

It was just as she'd thought.

Afterwards, she made her way across the plaza and over to the meeting room. He looked up quickly when she entered, as if maybe he'd been waiting for her to arrive.

 _Well?_ He cocked a brow.

She shook her head. _No, she wasn't pregnant._

Bellamy gave her a brief nod, turning away quickly as though nothing had happened. But she'd seen the flash of concern and disappointment that they'd once again failed to keep their bargain with the Eligians.

She couldn't be sure, of course, but she thought she might also have seen something else in his face. Something that looked a little like... delight.


	5. Chapter 5

Maybe it should have occurred to Clarke that after all these weeks with no "progress," they might just hear from the Triumvirate. But she'd been way too wrapped in her own emotional turmoil to have even considered it.

So she was startled when Bellamy pulled her aside at the daily briefing a couple of weeks later to give her the news that they'd been summoned to meet with the Eligian leaders.

"Summoned? What the _that_ mean?"

He shrugged. "They sent a message through Kane that they want to talk to us. You and me."

"About...?"

"Well... ah..."

Clarke watched, fascinated, as the tips of Bellamy's ears turned a delightful shade of dusky rose.

"... I guess it's about our lack of, um, success."

Clarke blinked. "Oh."

 _But what the hell was the point of that?_

"What the hell is the point of meeting about _that_? Unless they have some magic fertility dust they can sprinkle over us, in which case they should have done it already. They ought to realize that this can, uh, you know, take some time."

Bellamy gave her his lopsided smile.

"Clarke, these are people who believe in some prophecy they don't know the origins of, about a future danger they have no details for, and an unborn hero that's based only on the kid's DNA." He shrugged. "They may not wear white robes and have tattoos on their heads, but when it comes to their beliefs I don't really think logic enters into it."

Clarke sighed. "Okay, then. After dinner work for you?"

Bellamy nodded. "I'll send back a message through Kane to expect us then. I'll stop by for you, so wait for me."

Clarke was about to protest that she could bloody well make it to the Eligian headquarters on her own, but there didn't seem much point.

So she just smiled affectionately and nodded. "See you later."

XXXXXXXXXX

She hadn't been certain all three would be in attendance, but sure enough, when she and Bellamy walked through the door there they all were.

"Hello, Clarke and Bellamy."

Oriana rose with a smile, taking the lead as she had the first time, while the two men hung back ever so slightly.

"Thank you for meeting with us. Please have a seat."

As Clarke sat, she glanced around discreetly. The last time, she'd been too thrown by what was being asked of them to pay much attention to her surroundings. But now, a surreptitious survey convinced her that Bellamy was right. While the Triumvirate did indeed dress conventionally, the murals on the walls of the original Eligius 3 pioneers and their sponsor, evangelist Bill Cadogan, along with the New Dawn symbolism incorporated into the architecture, spoke of a belief system that was entrenched, revered, and probably unquestioned.

She found her interest hadn't quite gone unnoticed when Oriana caught her eye.

"It's a lovely room," Clarke said, hoping to disguise her curiosity as simple admiration. It wouldn't do for Oriana to think she was taking advantage of this rare visit to the inner sanctum to try to discover things about them.

"Just so," Oriana said, nodding, before shifting her focus to Bellamy.

"And are you interested in architecture, too, Bellamy," she asked with a pleasant smile. One that stopped just shy of her eyes.

As always, Clarke admired Bellamy's ability to handle himself well no matter what the situation. A skill no doubt honed by all those years on the Ark, hiding his family secret.

He unleashed his killer grin then, the one he rarely brought out to play, and Clarke was amused to see that even the gray-haired Eligian matriarch and Triumvirate member was not immune to its charm.

Her smile softened, becoming almost cloying.

"I can't say that I've ever been particularly interested in buildings," Bellamy answered finally. "But all these swords I see packed away in glass cases..."

He rose quickly, still smiling. "Okay if I take a closer look?"

The older male - David, if she remembered correctly - spoke up quickly, as Bellamy wandered across the room without waiting for permission.

"Be careful, Mr. Blake. Those are precious historical artifacts. I wouldn't want to see any of them damaged."

"Of course," Bellamy nodded, peering into several cases on a nearby console table. "I just wondered how it was you came to have so many swords on display. Historical artifacts? Then I imagine they're not... real weapons?"

"Then you'd imagine wrong."

By now, the third member of the group had risen and made his way over to join Bellamy. In her head, Clarke had thought of him as "the hot one," since he was decidedly younger - and better-looking - than the others. Was, in fact, probably only a few years older than Bellamy.

His actual name - Gabriel - she recalled with ease.

When Gabriel asked, "Do you have some interest in swords, Bellamy," Clarke was more thankful than ever that they'd concealed much of their cache of weapons - including the swords - before ever making their way to the city of Eligius.

Bellamy shrugged. "I guess I just like the way they look," he said blandly. Exactly as though he'd never held one, never fought with one, wasn't now considered one of the most proficient and deadly swordsmen in their small community.

"Ah, yes, they are beautiful indeed," Gabriel agreed, nodding. "You must visit my residence some day and inspect my personal collection."

 _The man had a personal sword collection?_

Before Clarke could even consider the implications of that revelation, Oriana was impatiently calling them back to their seats.

"If you young men are finished," she said sharply, "I think we have more important things to discuss."

Bellamy had barely rejoined Clarke on the sofa when David testily burst into speech. As though he could hold it in no longer.

"We need to know what's taking you so long. Why isn't the child already on its way?"

Clarke couldn't help her small gasp of surprise, but when she twisted to catch Bellamy's eye, she saw that his reaction to David's question was half amusement, half annoyance.

"You do understand," she said, turning to fully face the Triumvirate, "that this isn't something that can be ordered up on demand. Sometimes conception takes a while, which is why in vitro fertilization has been a standard medical procedure for centuries. So if you're in a hurry..."

"Unacceptable," David said, in a tone that brooked no argument. "We explained to your Ambassador Kane right from the beginning that the child must be conceived naturally."

Clarke shrugged. "Yes, I understand that, but then you're going to have to wait. We're... doing our best."

"But... are you really?" Gabriel spoke up suddenly, quietly, from his corner of the room.

"What the hell does that mean?" Bellamy said, his head jerking toward the other man. His voice was soft, but Clarke could see his jaw had begun to clench.

Gabriel smiled knowingly, and gave a small shrug

"Well, I did hear from Kane that you and Clarke are not really a couple. That for a while at least, you were with another woman."

Clarke felt herself tense when she saw that the jaw clench had become a tic.

"My personal life is not really any of your business," Bellamy said, his tone still deceptively mild. "And it has nothing at all to do with our agreement."

This time Gabriel's shrug was much more extravagant.

"I simply meant to say that looking at Clarke here, it seems impossible that any man who _was_ a man wouldn't want to take her to bed. And often." He smirked. "I only wish I could do the job myself."

While Clarke managed to hold back the heated response that formed on her tongue, Oriana's lips thinned and she remarked with exasperation, "Gabriel, that's quite enough. Sometimes you really are appalling."

David merely closed his eyes briefly, although whether at his co-leader's disgusting arrogance or Oriana's set-down Clarke couldn't be sure.

Meanwhile, the look in Bellamy's eye had her clamping her hand over his thigh, effectively preventing him from rising. And... presumably... taking a swing at the loathsome Gabriel.

 _Why the hell had she ever thought him hot?_

A moment later when Bellamy squeezed her hand tightly, she knew he'd recovered his equanimity.

"I really am doing my damnedest," he remarked lightly, smiling again, and Clarke was certain only she could see fury behind that smile.

"I'm sure you are, Bellamy," Oriana told him, "but... we cannot wait forever. Since you all arrived, there have been... rumblings amongst our people. Dissatisfaction. And we need to shore up our position. You must remember that as our fortunes go, so go those of your people," she added bluntly.

"And most importantly, we must be sure of the _child._ " David was emphatic.

"Yes, of course," Oriana agreed, but it was very clear to Clarke that the woman's motivations were mostly political, while David seemed to be the True Believer.

When Gabriel said nothing more, but continued to eye them both slyly from beneath hooded lids, Clarke had suddenly had enough.

She rose abruptly, tugging Bellamy up with her.

"I think you've made your concerns quite clear," she said.

"Good," Oriana nodded, rising too. "Just so you understand that we need this to happen soon. And your people need that, too."

By then, Clarke was so irritated by the entire encounter that she felt herself incapable of uttering a single polite word. So she nodded briskly instead and turned to leave.

But when she tried to pull Bellamy along with her, he stopped suddenly, bringing them both up short. She watched as he and Gabriel gave each other one last look, clearly taking each other's measure. They both nodded politely, but there was nothing at all polite about the cold fury in Bellamy's eyes by the time the two of them had finally slipped through the door, down a flight of stairs, and out of the building.

Clarke waited until they were well enough way that they couldn't be overheard before she turned to him, bringing them both to a sudden halt.

"I'm... really sorry, Bellamy."

His brow wrinkled. "What have you got to be sorry about?"

"No, I meant I'm sorry about what Gabriel said to you back there. Bringing up your personal life."

But he just shook his head.

"That's not why I'm pissed," he said hotly, biting out the words. "I can deal with him sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong. But... Jesus, Clarke! That fucking asshole was practically undressing you with his eyes! He looked at you like you were a piece of meat and talked about you like you weren't even there. What the hell is wrong with him!"

Clarke grabbed at his hands, lowering her voice as she tried to calm him down.

"Listen, I don't give a shit about him, about what he said to me, or about anything he might say to me in the future. They're just words, and he's a jackass. And believe me, he isn't the first person to look at me like that."

Bellamy's eyes widened, and then his nostrils flared in disdain.

"Yeah? Well, he's damn sure gonna be the last."

Clarke gave a little laugh and squeezed his hands affectionately.

"If only you _could_ somehow wipe out the entire asshole population, I'd really be grateful. But unless you're planning to work at it 24/7, I don't think you'll have the time."

XXXXXXXXXX

It wasn't until she lay in bed later that evening that Clarke began to consider their audience with the Eligians. Were they truly, as they all maintained, a _Triumvirate-who-spoke-as-one?_ Or were they really just three individuals with vastly different agendas?

She remembered how the woman, Oriana, had talked of "rumblings" among her people, implying it was the newcomers - Clarke's people - who'd brought that tension into the city.

So maybe, after all, it wasn't just... _produce this child and we will reward your people with stability._ Maybe it was also... _**fail**_ _to produce the child and those rumblings might well become all-out persecution._

It suddenly occurred to Clarke that, one way or another, the woman had been planning all along to use their community to solidify her control of the Eligians. Ultimately, they'd either be saviors - or scapegoats.

Then there was David. While he'd _seemed_ very much a True Believer, was it simply a case of excessive religious fervor or did he have some other - more hidden - agenda? One that might eventually endanger this child she and Bellamy were supposed to be creating.

But in the end, Clarke thought that maybe it wasn't either Oriana or David who puzzled her the most. After all, she'd met their ilk before.

Wasn't Oriana just a female version of Thelonious Jaha? Well-intentioned, controlling... and willing to do whatever it took to ensure the "good of their people."

And David? He was just another Titus kom Trikru, minus the head tattoos and the white robes.

She'd seen their sort before, and in the end they were always fairly predictable.

So truly, it was Gabriel who confounded her. Gabriel who was the enigma, the one she couldn't seem to get a fix on.

She'd been so outraged by his behavior towards her that she'd failed to penetrate his motivations at all. And maybe that had been his intention. Maybe it had all been an act, smoke and mirrors, and whatever drove him was hiding in the shadows behind the persona of a blatantly disgusting sexist cad.

Did he have a following? A constituency? A reason for being chosen for leadership beyond his good looks and smarmy charm?

If not, it was going to be difficult for her to take such a man seriously.

When Clarke yawned and felt her lids grow heavy and her breathing slow, she knew she'd have to put off solving this particular mystery for a little while longer.


	6. Chapter 6

Two days after they'd been summoned to meet with the Triumvirate, Clarke found herself walking slowly back from the clinic, wondering if Abby's calculations could possibly be correct. It seemed way too soon, but her mother had assured her that today was indeed the _right_ day.

For once, Bellamy had no morning meeting scheduled, and she tried to decide if it would be better to send him a message or simply stop by the rooms he now shared with Jordan - a place she'd never been.

As it turned out, neither was necessary.

Bellamy was waiting on her doorstep, smiling cheerfully and carrying a large rucksack.

 _What the hell?_ _Could he read her mind now?_

"Bellamy! What... how did you know?"

"Know what?" His mouth tugged up in her favorite half-smile.

So he wasn't telepathic after all.

"Um, what I meant to say was... what are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "I had nothing scheduled today and I thought maybe you'd like to do something to take your mind off everything and just, I don't know, relax for a little while."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Thought we might get out of the city. Explore the countryside a little. One of the Eligian liaisons was telling me about a nice spot only a couple miles away. Now that the weather's gotten so warm, things are starting to bloom, and... I remembered how much you liked that about Earth. When things suddenly sprang up out of the ground."

Clarke couldn't help the happy little zing she felt at the thought of a few hours in Bellamy's company with nothing to do but enjoy the beauty of a spring-like day.

She smiled. "Let me just check in with Madi..."

"Uh," he ducked his head, smiling shyly, "she's gone. She was just leaving when I got here... in fact, I asked her to come along. But she said she already had plans with Gaia and Indra. But that you should go and just leave her a note."

Clarke's smile widened. "Oh, she did, did she? I should just leave her a note?"

Bellamy grinned. "Her exact words."

She laughed. "So what's in the backpack?" she asked, curious.

"Just a few things I thought we might need. Can't go off into the wilderness without supplies."

"Nope. So... do I need to get anything from inside? Water?"

"All taken care of."

As they stood there in the morning sunlight, Clarke tried to remember another time when she and Bellamy had gone off on their own for no reason other than to enjoy the day, but couldn't recall one. Even that long-ago day when the two of them had left on their own to explore the bunker had been full of purpose.

And, as it later turned out, full of peril.

That was the day she'd had to talk Bellamy out of leaving them. As she studied his face now she tried to imagine her life without him in it.

And couldn't.

Clarke felt a quick rush of affection. "Sounds like a plan."

Following the Eligian's directions, they made their way along the city streets until they rounded a corner and suddenly found themselves on a dirt path that led to a stand of trees that gradually thinned out into nothing but tall grasses. Another quarter-mile and they'd left all trace of man-made structures well behind.

They were quiet as they walked, accustomed to moving silently through dangerous territory, even though they expected no danger today. Every once in a while, one of them would remark on something they were passing, some unusual plant or feature that they'd never seen on Earth, but for the most part they were content to enjoy the sun, and their surroundings. And the other's quiet company.

When they reached another stand of trees, Clarke was surprised to see that Bellamy had taken out a compass to help direct them.

"Is that thing going to work on this planet," she couldn't help asking.

"Yep. It's been modified and reset for the planet's magnetic field."

She smirked. "And you just happened to have learned that. And acquired one."

Bellamy stopped short, and for one quick moment the mantle of the carefree frolicker slipped from his shoulders. And he was all business.

"I need to learn everything I can about this place," he said seriously. "To be sure I can take care of everyone."

"That's not just up to you, Bellamy," Clarke reminded him. "You know that."

He shrugged and the lopsided smile appeared. "I know in my head that's true, but somehow it doesn't _feel_ true. First, I promised Madi I'd help, and then Monty asked us to take care of everyone. So I feel... responsible for our people."

Clarke nodded. Of course he did. She felt exactly the same.

She smiled. "But not today. Today we're just having fun."

"Right." He peered down at the compass, frowning. "Unless we get lost."

But they didn't get lost. And when they soon afterwards exited a large copse of strange, smooth-trunked trees to find themselves on the edge of a large meadow, Clarke couldn't help her gasp of delight. The field was filled with wildflowers of every description and color. Blue, yellow, pink... even a strange shade of purple that Clarke was certain she'd never seen anywhere on Earth. Not even in Shallow Valley.

"Oh, Bellamy, it's beautiful," she said, twirling around exuberantly, as though she was five instead of nearly twenty-five.

Bellamy's lips curled into a pleased smile.

"Yeah, it's nice here. We'll have to arrange some outings for everyone, a few at a time."

"Of course we will. But today, this place is going to be just for us."

She wrapped her arms around herself, as though greedily holding onto their newfound "secret" place.

"Just for us," he agreed, smiling.

Clarke was searching for a place to sit when Bellamy stopped her with a sudden, "Wait." Then produced from his backpack the most threadbare, most bedraggled scrap of blanket she'd ever seen.

"No one seemed to want this, and it was just sitting in the supply closet, so I brought it along." He shrugged. "Figured it might be damp on the ground,"

Clarke was astonished. After living in the most brutal conditions imaginable back on Earth, Bellamy had thought to bring something for them to sit on!

What might be coming next?

A minute later, she found out.

While she settled herself on the blanket, Bellamy pulled out a few small parcels and a canteen of water.

"Lunch?" he asked, unwrapping bread and cheese and dried meats, and tossing her a handful of berries.

As they ate, random images came to her, not memories exactly but pictures she might have seen on old vids on the Ark.

"We're having a picnic, Bellamy," she told him, her mind trying to wrap itself around the pleasure of partaking in such a carefree activity. "Not eating outside because we have no shelter, or rushing to finish because danger might be lurking. Or filling ourselves up because we don't know when we'll get to eat again. We're just slitting here eating because we feel like it. Because we have nothing else we need to do. And because it's a sunny day."

As she made this speech, Bellamy smiled at her affectionately.

"I suppose we are," he said. "It's kind of fun. Especially since neither of us had to kill a panther for lunch."

They both laughed, remembering that long-ago day when they knew each other only a little, and liked each other even less. When they had no idea how the hell they'd ever survive.

"So many of our friends are gone," she said, sobering for a moment as she recalled their faces.

"I know," he nodded, "but we're still here, Clarke, still breathing." They both smiled softly, recalling the last time he'd said those words. "And we still have people here that we care about. This is going to be our new home, and we're going to make it work."

She nodded, finishing the last of her berries.

"We will," she said, understanding his determination. "But we're not going to think about that today. Today is just for lazing around."

Clarke lay back, her face turned toward the suns, peering up at Bellamy through slitted eyes as he finished his lunch. The sunshine felt wonderful, warming her face and her body, and she could hear the soughing of the tall grasses at the edge of the meadow as the light wind rustled through them.

She was relaxed and pleasantly drowsy as she studied the sky. Was that the cry of a small bird, or just the wind in the tall trees beyond the grasses?

She wasn't quite sure...

Clarke drifted off so peacefully that when she woke a few minutes later, she was only really sure she'd even _been_ asleep because Bellamy was no longer sitting and eating, but instead lying on his side next to her, elbow on the blanket, head in his palm as he watched her sleep.

He was close. So close.

Close enough that in her just-awakened state, it felt utterly natural to reach out for him, to pull his head down, to kiss him sweetly. To feel him respond.

"Clarke." Bellamy drew back just far enough to breathe her name.

But then she tugged him down again, and this time the kiss was longer and deeper, their tongues sliding and twisting.

When it ended, Bellamy lifted his head, his face questioning.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, his deep voice already rough with desire.

"Don't you want to?" Clarke asked, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

"Fuck! Of course I want to! I just needed to know it's okay."

 _What the hell was he talking about?_

"Of course it's okay."

"Good. Then," he took a deep breath, expelled it on a sigh, "this time I want to see you."

"See me?"

"Yeah. Can I - can I take off your shirt?"

Clarke smiled lazily. Oh. Was _that_ all?

"Sure," she said tugging at the hem.

He shook his head. "No. Let me do it."

When she nodded and lifted her arms, he reached down, pulling her shirt up and over her head in one smooth stroke.

"Oh, god," he whispered, "you are so fucking beautiful."

"You think so?" she murmured. "I'm not even done yet."

She reached behind her then, releasing the clasp on her well-worn bra, freeing her breasts to the warm afternoon sun.

And to the heat in Bellamy's eyes.

"Aren't you going to touch them?" she asked, as he stared at her. "And maybe... take off your own shirt?"

He sucked in a breath. "Yes."

His shirt was off in seconds, and then he was reaching down, cupping both breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples, his breathing already labored.

It was too much for Clarke to process all at once. The burgeoning sensations evoked by the feel of Bellamy's roughened hands kneading at her breasts, and the sunlight glinting off the smooth tan planes of his naked chest.

He was magnificent.

She reached up shyly to stroke his well-muscled torso. "You're beautiful, too," she whispered.

And then he was crushing her to him, kissing her hard, wet and open-mouthed, and she was awash in arousal. He drew back a bit, his tongue and lips trailing across her cheek until his mouth reached the shell of her ear.

"I want to suck your tits," he whispered.

Just imagining it had her moaning. "Yes," she said.

In seconds he'd latched onto her right breast, and was sucking hard and strong. For Clarke, the sensation was electrifying. By the time he'd moved to her left breast, the current of arousal was traveling along all her nerve endings, in a direct line from her tits to her cunt.

Which had become a raging fire.

Clarke was soaking wet, and unable to stop her lower body from twisting around, rhythmically seeking contact. It wasn't until Bellamy moved himself atop her that she found what she needed. He was fully aroused now, and as she ground her clit against him through the several layers of clothing, he kissed her hard, his tongue thrusting inside her mouth.

He pulled away suddenly, and she whimpered at the loss of contact.

But it was only a brief interruption.

"Take these off," he muttered, tugging at her waistband.

Soon they were stripping off the rest of their clothing, struggling with boots and pants and anything else that was in the way of their being exactly how they wanted to be.

Naked. In each other's arms.

He was on her again in a flash, and Clarke found the feel of his skin all along the length of her body intoxicating. When Bellamy reached down to stroke her sex, she knew he'd find her more than ready.

She wanted him so much.

"Clarke...?" He could barely choke out her name.

"Yes," she said, grabbing for his cock, finding it long and hard and wonderfully heavy. "I want this in me right now. Please, Bellamy."

Bellamy groaned at her touch, at her firm grasp, and then he was crouching over her and spreading her legs apart. Looking down at her.

Pushing himself into her.

They both gasped at the contact, and their eyes were drawn to the point where they were joined.

They'd done this before, but never like this. Never naked and in the sunlight. Never quite so open with each other.

Clarke was so turned on that she knew she wouldn't last long. So when Bellamy's hard thrusts became short and erratic, they both found they couldn't hold it in, couldn't stop it.

They came hard, nearly in sync, their shouts of pleasure and satisfaction echoing across the open meadow.

He collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily, for a few seconds giving her his weight before becoming fully aware and moving to the side. Slipping behind her body and wrapping his arms around her.

Pulling her close.

"That was pretty amazing," he whispered, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I liked feeling all of you next to me."

Clarke pulled his arm tightly around her. "Me, too," she said, but because he was behind her, he couldn't see her soft, happy smile,

They lay quietly for several minutes, Bellamy's arm still encircling her, until finally he sighed and said, "I suppose we should get up. Get dressed."

"Mmmm, yeah. You're right. But... just a few more minutes."

He chuckled softly when she yawned.

Only seconds later they were both sound asleep.

When Clarke awakened some time later, it was to a feeling of deep contentment... and sudden arousal. Bellamy's arm was still around her, but his fingers were now pulling and twisting gently at her nipples. And when she shifted her hips just a little, she could feel his nearly erect cock against her ass.

She chuckled softly.

"You're awake," he said, hearing her.

"Yeah... and you seem to be _up_ , too," she teased, huffing out a surprised little laugh.

She could hear the smirk in Bellamy's voice.

"Well, what the hell do you expect with you lying in my arms without a stitch of clothing on? And your ass rubbing against me? Seems like you might be interested, too," he added, running his thumbs across her by now very hard nipples.

"Oh, yeah?" She turned in his arms, smiling. "What makes you say that?"

"Maybe it's more of a hope."

"What are you hoping for?" she asked, reaching down to grasp him, beginning to stroke him into full hardness.

"For that," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her.

Even though it had been only minutes since they'd last danced this dance, the kiss was soon hot and wet and their bodies were aching for much, much more.

Clarke had always liked sex, the passion and the intimacy, but somehow in this moment with Bellamy she felt bolder and sexier than ever. She broke the kiss, pushing him over onto his back as she began to explore the powerful chest and arms that had been holding onto her so tightly.

First with her hands, stroking lightly across his shoulders and down along his muscled arms. And then with her mouth, as she leaned over to leave a trail of kisses along his body.

The lower she moved, the heavier Bellamy's breathing became, and when she reached the hard length of his now fully-erect cock and began to squeeze it gently, he moaned softly. When she lowered her head and blew gently across the wet tip, he groaned.

"Clarke..."

He was already nearly incoherent.

So when she took him in her mouth and began to lap and suck, he couldn't stop the involuntary thrusting of his hips and legs, pushing himself into her mouth.

"C'mere," he said, reaching down and grabbing at her shoulders. "I can't last if you do that."

He would have turned and pulled her beneath him then, but she stopped him.

"Wait," she said, pushing him onto his back again, sliding up his body, her legs on either side as she left a trail of wet arousal on his legs and hips. And then she was over him, grabbing at his cock, positioning him quickly, lowering herself onto him.

"Oh, fuck!" he cried, his head twisting on the thin blanket as he felt her begin to move up and down him.

"Yeah, that's what I'm doing," Clarke said, more aroused than she could ever remember, "I'm fucking you."

For a while Bellamy just watched her through slitted eyes, admiring her heavy breasts as they jiggled and thrust in the sunlight while she rode him.

And then...

"I dreamed of this." The words burst out of him, his voice heavy with desire.

Clarke leaned over, bracing herself on his chest, but still moving around him.

"What do you mean?"

"On the Ring. When you were dead...when I _thought_ you were dead. Just at first, I dreamed about you a lot. And sometimes... sometimes you came to me exactly like this. I'd look up and there you were, hovering over me. But then... I'd wake up."

For just an instant, as he remembered, Bellamy's eyes looked haunted. But then they cleared, and there was once again only desire.

"But this time," he whispered, "this time I won't have to wake up. This time it isn't a dream."

Clarke was so stunned that for a moment she stilled.

"You dreamed..."

"Christ, Clarke, please don't stop!" He groaned as he pushed her hips down in an effort to get her moving again.

Her body responded and she resumed thrusting, tucking away his surprising words in the back of her mind to ponder later. Bellamy reached up to palm her breasts then, squeezing them and twisting her nipples.

"But I could never have imagined how beautiful you really are," he said, pushing himself up into her, beginning to answer her movements with his own.

A few moments later, he lifted himself upright and pulled her close, so that he could suck on her breasts while they fucked.

"God, yes! I love when you suck my tits!"

They were both thrusting strongly now, and breathing erratically. For Clarke, everything in the universe had come down to this one point, this place where they were joined. Bellamy inside her. His cock in her cunt. The pleasure coursing through her from that joining.

She was all instinct as her body strove relentlessly to reach the next level, a place it knew could not be more than a few thrusts away.

When Bellamy began to moan her name over and over, and she felt his wetness splash within her, she finally found it.

Clarke came. Hard.

They clutched at one another, panting, their faces buried in each others' necks. And then Bellamy drew back, grabbing at her head to pull her in for a kiss of such utter sweetness that Clarke felt the tears gather in her eyes.

She pulled back and smiled at him, and found him gazing at her fondly. He lifted her gently off him and they both collapsed back onto the blanket.

Clarke turned her head to see Bellamy watching her with a wry smile.

"That was really something," he said wonderingly. "Too bad it's not the right day, because it might have worked this time."

 _What the hell was he talking about?_

"But it is," she said, smiling.

Bellamy stilled suddenly, his face becoming a blank mask.

"What?"

She was puzzled. What didn't he understand?

"I said it _is_ the right day, so..."

He stared at her, his breathing suddenly shallow.

"And how is it you never told me this?"

The words were bitten off, and to Clarke he sounded almost... angry.

Shocked by his sudden change of mood, she began to babble.

"I was going to. In fact, when I ran into you outside my door, I was trying think how to find you..."

He sat up then, his back rigid.

"But you _did_ find me, Clarke. And we just spent hours together. Talking and eating and... and fucking! You couldn't remember to tell me while we walked two miles or ate the goddamned berries?" His eyes became heavy with a hurt she simply couldn't fathom. "You didn't think about letting me know while I was buried inside you?!"

"Bellamy, what the hell is _wrong_ with you? What difference does it make?"

Bellamy sighed, rubbing his hands across his face, before turning away, muttering.

"I'm such an idiot. I thought," his eyes closed briefly, "stupidly, I see that now. But I thought that today... that what we just did... that it was about me. About you and me."

He expelled a heavy sigh, as though it had cost him to say those words.

But Clarke didn't understand at all, and she could feel herself beginning to panic.

"What do you mean? Of _course_ it was about you and me."

She heard the hurt in her own voice, and thought maybe Bellamy had, too, because he immediately twisted around to face her.

"No, Clarke, I'm sorry. I'm really... I'm not mad at you, only at myself. You were just... doing what you were supposed to do. Exactly like you promised."

"Bellamy..."

But Bellamy wasn't listening to her anymore. He rose abruptly, ending the conversation.

"I think we should probably head back. I'll take my stuff over to those trees," he said, pointing to a small copse in the distance. "Give you some privacy so you can get dressed. I've gotta take a piss anyway."

And then he'd picked up his clothes and was off before she could say another word.

Clarke struggled into her clothing, her mind spinning crazily, still not quite believing that she could be so fucking _happy_ one second, and have it all blown to pieces the next.

When Bellamy returned a few minutes later, he was fully dressed, and seemed just like always.

Except that he didn't touch her, or look her in the eye.

Except that he had nothing to say but the most polite of banalities, and responded to none of her attempts at conversation. None of her attempts to set things right between them.

Clarke knew he felt hurt, but she didn't know how to fix it. How to convince him how much he meant to her. How much that day had meant to her.

But as they walked back to the city, she vowed to herself that she would. That the next time they had to be together, when he _couldn't_ ignore her, when he _couldn't_ close himself off from her, she'd shower him with so much affection that he'd have to accept the idea that she cared for him.

 _Next time, we'll work it all out._ She was sure.

But three days later, she found there wouldn't need to _be_ a next time.

Clarke was pregnant.


	7. Chapter 7

"I'm sorry, Clarke, I tried, but these people," in light of his own history, Kane's quiet smile had become just a touch ironic, "they have their own way of doing things."

She sighed, knowing he probably _had_ done his best, and that somehow she'd just have to get through it.

"So I suppose they're going to mention how it is this miracle came to pass?"

Clarke figured she could be ironic, too.

Kane gave his head a small shake. "No. They think it'll be accepted as more... providential if it appears you fulfilled the prophecy without even knowing about it. In fact," he sighed unhappily, "they'd rather no one knew about their... involvement."

She frowned. "Are you sure they really even believe this stuff, Marcus? Because only David looked like he was undergoing some kind of religious experience when we told them. Oriana just looked smug. As for Gabriel," Clarke shook her head, "who the hell knows what he thinks?"

"I know it might seem that way, but I think they really do believe it. And more importantly, their people do."

Clarke shrugged. Life had taught her that people believed what they wanted and sometimes there was no point in trying to make sense of it. As long as the Triumvirate kept their word, she'd be satisfied.

"So when is the big announcement taking place?"

"Tonight, right after the second sunset. In the main hall. And... everyone's invited."

"Including... our people?"

Kane nodded, his look sympathetic. "It'll be fine, Clarke. Everyone will understand, you'll see."

Clarke stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. "No one will understand, but I'll deal with it. We... both will."

"Yes. At least you and Bellamy have each other to lean on."

"Right," she nodded, her lips twisting up in a wry smile. "At least there's that."

XXXXXXXXXX

She'd told Bellamy first, of course, as soon as her mother confirmed it.

Things weren't exactly... optimum... between them. Hadn't been since that picnic in the meadow. The day that had started out so joyful, morphed unexpectedly into utter bliss, and then ended with them more disconnected than they'd been at any time since they landed on the planet.

And with Clarke being very, very pregnant.

In her heart of hearts, Clarke had hoped that when Bellamy heard the news it might be enough to mend the rift that had grown between them. That it might jolt them past the awful hollow _politeness_ that seemed to have replaced their former intimate bond.

And just at first Bellamy _had_ looked happy. For one tiny moment, as they'd gazed at each other in wonder, mutually acknowledging the magnitude of their situation, a genuine smile had appeared on his face. One that made it all the way to his warm brown eyes.

But almost immediately his expression had reverted to pleasantly impassive.

"Abby's absolutely sure?"

"She is." Clarke had already been pretty sure herself. Somehow her body just hadn't felt the same. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I wonder if maybe we should wait a little while before we tell the Eligians. Be certain... everything's going okay."

"We could wait a couple weeks, I guess. But Mom's done a bunch of tests and says there's no reason this baby shouldn't be healthy."

She noted Bellamy's quick intake of breath when she said the word _baby_ , and understood exactly how he felt. They'd planned it, known what they were doing, and been very deliberate about the desired outcome. But that didn't mean it still wasn't going to take a hell of a lot of getting used to.

"Two weeks from today, then, just to be sure," he said. "I'll get Kane to set up an appointment."

Clarke nodded, her eyes shifting towards the outer door, but then she'd hesitated. She'd delivered her news and knew it was probably time to let Bellamy get back to work, but found she couldn't quite leave. Not just yet. Not without making something perfectly clear.

"Besides mom and Kane, I'm only planning to tell Madi right now. But you should tell... anyone you like, Bellamy. If you want to." She shrugged. "It's your baby — and your news — as much as it is mine."

Bellamy nodded slowly. "Okay," he said.

Which wasn't any answer at all.

Fourteen days later, with Clarke already battling nausea on a daily basis, they'd passed on their news to an elated Triumvirate.

As she'd later told Kane, Oriana had merely nodded complacently, almost like she'd finally managed to check an important task off some mental to-do list. But David had beamed at them, practically swooning. Clarke had been more than a little startled when he pulled them each in for a grateful hug.

And when he'd declared, "What you have done will change this world, you'll see," she'd been totally creeped out.

She already had to deal with being fucking _Wanheda_ , an unasked-for, unwanted moniker that many of the former grounders simply wouldn't let go of. So the last thing Clarke wanted now was to end up as some revered icon in a religion she didn't even believe in.

She made a quick mental note to avoid David, as well as all his religious cohorts, whenever possible.

And Gabriel? He'd done no more than give her a salacious wink, and cock his brow at Bellamy. As if to congratulate him on finally getting the _job_ done.

As the younger men continued to eye one another, Clarke could feel repressed hostility rolling off Bellamy in waves. When he began to bounce on the balls of his feet, she knew it was time to get them the hell out of there.

She interrupted David right smack in the middle of one of his bombastic bouts of effusive bullshit.

"Uh, sorry," she said quickly. "Been feeling like crap. Gotta go."

And with that, she pulled Bellamy from the room.

Their leaving had been so abrupt, in fact, that she'd never even heard about the plan for the mass announcement until Kane brought her the news the following day. And try as he might, he had not been able to dissuade the Triumvirate from going forward with that plan.

"Do you want me to have Abby say you're too ill to attend?" Kane asked now with a worried frown.

And tempting as it was to hide behind her condition, she knew she couldn't let Bellamy take all the heat.

Clarke gave her head a quick shake, and smiled wryly.

"I've lived through a lot of crap in the last few years, Marcus, so I'm pretty sure there's no chance I'm actually gonna die of embarrassment."

XXXXXXXXXX

Clarke had never been in this part of the Eligian government building before. Hadn't, in fact, known they had the capacity to house such a huge gathering. But like everything else she'd seen in the city since their arrival, the room was impressive.

Built auditorium-style, it had to hold upwards of a couple of thousand people.

Of course, even that wouldn't have accommodated all the Eligians, especially since their own complement of more than four hundred had arrived to swell the city's population. But there were always those who found such occasions tedious. Who chose instead to stay home and get the news later from their neighbors.

From her seat on the stage next to Bellamy and the Triumvirate - a position of prominence she had neither expected nor desired - Clarke saw quite a few in the audience that she recognized, especially amongst her own people. As with the Eligians, not everyone had come, but their little band of leaders had show up in full force.

Just like she'd expected.

Clarke's musings were cut short when Oriana rose suddenly, the hall quieting as people waited curiously to learn what important news had prompted their leaders to call them together like this.

As Oriana swung her head from side to side, capturing the attention of her audience, Clarke admired the woman's seemingly effortless ability to take charge.

She smiled and began to speak.

"My fellow Eligians - and our visitors from across the galaxy. We - David, Gabriel, and I - have called you together this evening because we have some important and exciting news to share with you. News that I know many of you have been waiting a lifetime to hear."

There was a sudden stirring in the audience.

"It concerns the prophecy you've all heard since you were little children, that _A Child will be born and will save us all._ The words were said so long ago that no one now living even remembers where or by whom. There was only the words and a diagram, which we later realized was a DNA schematic. One that would point us to the right child, when the time came. Well... I'm thrilled to be able to tell you _that time has come_."

When startled gasps were heard here and there in the crowd, Oriana nodded her head.

"Yes. I don't blame you for being surprised. Shocked even. I, too, have sometimes despaired that it would ever happen. But after all these decades, the waiting is finally over."

She paused again, and Clarke was sure it was for effect. But she needn't have bothered. Oriana already had them all in the palm of her hands.

"Now I know a few of you weren't happy when we three voted to allow the refugees from a destroyed planet to take shelter with us, to become part of our community. There was some disgruntled talk about scarce resources and the diluting of our culture. But as it turns out, it was the right decision. Because it is two of those refugees who will make it possible for the prophecy to finally be fulfilled."

There was a shifting in the audience as Oriana turned slightly, nodding at Clarke and Bellamy, seated there on stage.

"When we learned that two of our visitors had conceived a child, we routinely tested it, just as we would with our own people. Imagine our surprise and delight when we found that this child - _their child_ \- is the one we've been waiting for all this tine."

 _Yeah, just imagine._ Clarke barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

"But here they are, the two young people who have been destined by the fates to become the parents of the child of the prophecy: Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake."

As the Eligians began to talk excitedly among themselves, Clarke found herself searching the audience for her own people.

Madi, sitting near the front with Indra and Gaia, had known for weeks, of course. When she caught Clarke's eye she gave her an encouraging smile. Gaia simply looked blank, and Clarke was sure it was probably the last thing she'd expected. As for Indra? She was staring at Bellamy thoughtfully, like she was finally putting together the pieces of a puzzle that had before seemed incomprehensible.

Still, it wasn't the reactions of the two former Trikru that Clarke was concerned about, but the very few Arkers who were left, as well as those who'd shared Bellamy's fate on the Ring.

 _His family_.

She scanned the audience carefully, and was startled when she suddenly found herself staring straight into John Murphy's amused eyes. He was smiling that cynical half-smile she knew so well. The one that said, "You can try to hide from me, but I know exactly what's going on inside your head."

When he saw he'd caught her eye, the smile twisted into a smirk. He nodded at her and shrugged, and his expression said _I_ _knew it all along._

Beside him, Emori simply looked... confused. Clarke watched her tug at his arm, and while she wasn't close enough to hear their words, and had no idea how to read lips, she was still certain she knew the contents of that conversation.

 _What the hell? Bellamy and Clarke?_

 _No surprise there, babe. I'll explain it to you later._

Clarke's eyes moved further along the row then, and her stomach churned when she saw Echo there, staring straight ahead. Despite Echo's blank face, Clarke was somehow certain that Bellamy would have told her. Warned her.

He was too kind not to have done so.

And finally she came to Raven, who was glaring at her with look of such hostility that Clarke was momentarily taken aback. But then she shrugged inwardly. What had she expected? That Raven would understand? Be on her side? Be the friend Clarke so desperately needed?

 _Fat chance,_ she told herself, tasting the bile of bitter regret in the back of her throat.

She only hoped they'd still be able to work together.

Clarke's focus shifted away when Oriana began to speak again.

"I'm going to ask that you not approach Clarke and Bellamy, that you allow them their privacy. After all, they're expecting a baby and we all know how difficult a time that can be."

Titters from the audience.

"But we are planning a gala soon, so that you can meet them both. Except for the investiture of members of the Triumvirate, we rarely find a use for our magnificent Great Hall. But I certainly think this event qualifies. Food and drink will be provided and everyone will be welcome."

There was a smattering of applause and a few more laughs.

"Let's all return to our homes now and celebrate privately. We'll let you know when the gala is planned so that we may celebrate together. Goodnight, and may our prophecies all be fulfilled."

And suddenly, mercifully, it was over.

Clarke leaped from her chair and was off the stage before the first row of the audience had cleared. Behind her, she heard Bellamy calling, asking her to wait, but just at that moment she didn't think she could deal with him. She needed to get home, to find a way to absorb the hate she'd seen in Raven's eyes.

She was hurrying through the quiet streets of the darkened city, guided only by the light from the three moons, when she heard her name again. Another familiar voice. Another person she didn't want to deal with. Clarke ducked her head and increased her pace, certain she could outrun her stalker.

So she was startled when she felt a strong hand suddenly grab onto her arm with enough force to stop her in her tracks. She was jerked around roughly to find herself looking straight into the furious face of Raven Reyes.

"What the hell, Clarke? You think after that news you can just take off? Like it's nothing?"

"Raven, please..."

She tried to pull away, but anger had given Raven strength, and she held on fast.

"Please, my ass! What the hell did you think you were doing? Did you think it was okay to crawl into bed with Bellamy even though he was with someone else? You're the reason they broke up, right?"

"Is that what Echo told you?" Clarke had had enough of accusations.

"Echo told me nothing! Not even that they broke up. I finally figured it out for myself. I always knew there was... something between you and Bellamy, but I never thought you'd stoop that low."

"You would think that, I suppose." Clarke couldn't seem to help her bitter words. "I know you've never forgiven me for Finn."

Raven's eyes widened in surprise and she finally dropped her hold on Clarke.

"That's not it at all! I know Finn never told you about me. But you _knew_ Bellamy was with Echo."

Clarke sighed, suddenly feeling unbearably tired. Not to mention that she had to pee so bad she wasn't sure she could make it home in time even if Raven let her go.

"Why don't you ask Bellamy what happened, Raven?" she said wearily.

"I could," Raven agreed, her voice quieter now. "But right now I'm asking you."

Clarke shook her head. "It's... a lot more complicated than you think. We - neither of us - really had a choice. And besides... Echo knew."

Raven gaped at her. "She knew? I don't understand."

"I know you don't. But if you come home with me now, I'll explain. Because I really don't feel like peeing in my pants right here in the middle of the street."

Raven stared at her for a moment, and then gave a sudden bark of laughter.

"Goddammit!" she said, shaking her head. "I just know you're gonna talk me out of being pissed at you, Clarke." Raven grabbed onto her again and began to pull her along. "Come on, then. I always heard pregnant ladies had to pee all the time. Never thought I'd get the chance to find out if it was true."


	8. Chapter 8

For Clarke, it was a relief to talk to Raven. To unburden herself to another woman, someone who wasn't her mother or her thirteen-year-old daughter. And in the end, when she finally understood all the circumstances, Raven turned out to be surprisingly sympathetic.

"I know I shouldn't have climbed all over you like that, Clarke," she sighed. "Made... assumptions. I guess maybe at least part of it was the guilt."

"What have you got to feel guilty about? You didn't have anything to do with this."

Raven shrugged. "No, but when I realized you were still alive I damn well knew I should warn Echo about you and Bellamy as soon as I had the chance."

"Raven..."

"No, I believe you, Clarke. That Bellamy explained it to her and she... okayed it. But she couldn't have known what it would feel like for him - for both of you - to be together like that. When we first got to the Ring, Echo didn't know him well enough to understand how much he suffered when we thought you were dead. She didn't get what was between you. But I did. I knew."

Clarke gaped at her, but Raven gave her a crooked little smile.

"Come on, Clarke! We all knew how you felt about each other. Monty, Harper... even that cockroach Murphy."

"But we didn't... we weren't..."

"Maybe you didn't, but we could all see the feelings. And... I owed it to Echo to let her know so she could be prepared."

"Prepared?"

"For the inevitable."

"Raven, I don't think..."

"Well, I do. And I should have said something."

She shrugged and gave Clarke a quirky smile.

"But see, I was kinda distracted with my own thing..."

Clarke grinned, more than happy to switch their focus to Raven's romance.

"So I noticed. That's... going okay?"

"Yeah. No worries there." Raven narrowed her eyes. "And no changing the subject. So... what are you going to do about Bellamy?"

Clarke shrugged. "What can I do? We're having this baby together, this kid that's going to save everyone, although I have no idea how. But other than that, Bellamy doesn't seem to want to have anything to do with me. Maybe," she took a deep breath, trying for a nonchalance she certainly didn't feel, "he and Echo will get back together."

Raven eyed her carefully. "And would you be okay with that?"

Clarke shook her head slowly. "No," she whispered, admitting it aloud for the first time. "But I can't figure out how to make things better between us."

Raven shrugged. "Whatever the hell is bugging him, at least this time you haven't left each other to die. If you can forgive each other for that, anything else should be a piece of cake."

Clarke snorted. "There is that," she said.

XXXXXXXXXX

When the dress arrived, Clarke couldn't help being reminded of Polis. Of Lexa. She'd been given a special dress that day, too. One that had been so tight, and so restrictive, that in the end she'd had to be sewn into it.

Her choices had felt restrictive then, too. Accept the title of _Wanheda,_ bow to the Commander, and _maybe_ save her people... or risk the safety of almost everyone she loved.

 _That_ dress had been made for the Commander of Death.

As soon as she took it out of the box, Clarke could see that this dress was something altogether different.

It had been cut quite simply, because that was the style in this city. There was a halter top to tie around her neck, and the rest was just a length of iridescent white fabric that fell to her knees. She couldn't help the little frisson of excitement that filled her as she stroked the material. When had she ever had the chance to wear something this lovely?

Clarke had a small moment of fear that the dress would somehow fail to accommodate her ample breasts, but when she peeled off her clothes and slipped it over her head, she found that wasn't the case at all. Instead, the dress, which had looked so simple in her hands, had been so artfully made that it draped enticingly over her breasts, and then clung to her every curve before falling gracefully around her.

"Oh, Clarke, you look so beautiful! Where did that come from?"

She hadn't even heard Madi come in until she was suddenly hovering in the doorway.

"Look for yourself. There's a card in the box."

"It's from Oriana!"

Clarke heard the surprise in Madi's voice, but it was no greater than her own. It had been sent by the Eligian leader with a card that said _I think you should have something special to wear tonight_.

"And did you see? There are shoes, too!"

Clarke hadn't seen, and when she slipped them on her feet she tried to recall the last time she'd worn anything but boots.

Madi tugged at her arm, dragging her over to the tiny mirror they kept on the wall. Insisting that Clarke should at least have one small glimpse of herself in her new finery.

"I wonder what Bellamy will think when he sees you in that," she said, her voice filled with admiration.

Clarke felt her face flush, mostly because she'd been wondering the same thing herself.

XXXXXXXXXX

Bellamy had offered to come by for them on his way to the gala, but as much as she might fancy the picture in her head of them walking in together arm in arm, Clarke knew it would have been a lie. They may have been about to become parents, but that hadn't brought them together. If anything, it felt like it was tearing them apart.

She'd told him she and Madi could get there on their own.

Clarke had almost thought she'd seen a flash of disappointment in his eyes, but if so, the new _controlled_ Bellamy had shut it down immediately.

He'd nodded. "Whatever you like."

So when she entered the Great Hall, instead of being on her arm, Bellamy was waiting along with everyone else for _the mother-to-be-of-the-prophecy-child,_ otherwise known as the Star Attraction.

As she paused in the doorway, she couldn't help thinking about the irony of it all. Since they'd landed on this planet, both she and Bellamy had tried so hard to stay behind the scenes, supporting and advising Madi as the anointed Commander. They'd even sent Kane to the Eligians as their liaison as soon as he'd recovered his health.

But like so many times before, the fates had had other plans. Because here she was, right back in the spotlight.

Clarke sighed as she stepped into the room, which was larger and more elegantly appointed than any she'd seen so far in the city. Long tables had been set up on the far wall, and they seemed to be piled high with every tasty treat the city had to offer. When she saw the size of the crowd already gathered, Clarke wasn't quite sure whether to be flattered or fearful.

She took a deep breath, surreptitiously glancing around, trying - and failing - to stop herself from searching for Bellamy. A moment later she spotted him just a few feet away, and when their eyes met and held _,_ Clarke stopped thinking about irony, or fate, or room decor, or pretty much anything else.

Bellamy was staring at her like he'd never seen her before. Like she was the eighth wonder of the world. It was a look so filled with admiration, and affection, and... and _desire_ that Clarke suddenly forgot everything she ever knew and everything she'd ever learned. Including how to breathe.

As they gazed at one another, the sounds of the gathering seemed to die away, the room to empty around them.

She couldn't have torn her eyes from him if she'd tried.

And then, just like that - just like she'd fucking _imagined_ it - he took a breath, blinked, and was greeting her with his usual aplomb, "Hello, Clarke. You look really... nice tonight."

Nice? She looked _nice_? _That look had said NICE?_

Clarke just barely stopped herself from gritting her teeth. "You, too, Bellamy," she said, working to keep her voice as neutral as possible.

And he did. Someone had given him a long-sleeved shirt of some fine white material that was made to slip over his head. With his hair tumbling forward and his dark handsome features, he reminded Clarke of a long-ago pirate on one of those old Ark vids.

"Ah, you're here at last," Oriana said, coming up suddenly on Clarke's right side. "So many people want to meet the two of you that I think it would be best if you split up and, uh, circulated a bit. You don't mind."

Mind? Of course Clarke didn't mind. She was wearing this beautiful dress, and she'd spent the entire time she was dressing imagining Bellamy unable to take his eyes off her while they talked. And now it appeared she was going to be speaking to everyone _except_ Bellamy.

 _Why would she ever mind?_

She sighed in resignation, and only seconds later Bellamy was already halfway across the room while she herself was being introduced to the first smiling excited _believer._

And it never stopped. Her own people - Madi, Abby, Kane, Raven, and the rest - she was only allowed to greet in passing. As soon as it seemed like she might get to spend some time with any of them, some interfering busybody, usually Oriana, was there to whisk her away to meet yet another new face.

Of Bellamy, she saw nothing at all.

After several hours - Clarke was absolutely certain of that even though there wasn't a single timepiece in the room - she would swear she'd met every Eligian there at least three times. She was leaning against the wall at one end of the room, tired and cranky and working on an exit strategy, when a hand suddenly grabbed at her arm.

Her fatigue fell away when she looked up and saw it was Bellamy.

"This is crazy," he said quickly. "I haven't had a chance to talk to you all night and... I really wanted to."

 _After a month, he suddenly wanted to talk?_

"After a month, you suddenly want to talk?"

Bellamy shrugged and his lips twisted in a lopsided smile.

"Yeah, I'm... sorry, Clarke. I know I've been kind of an asshole lately..."

" _Kind_ _of_ an asshole?" Suddenly, she just couldn't hold it in. "As far as I'm concerned, you've been a grade A, number one asshole..."

"Now, now," a male voice interrupted, "you don't want to be airing your dirty laundry in public."

They both pivoted quickly to find Gabriel behind them, wearing his usual unpleasant smirk.

"This is a private conversation," Bellamy said, his voice tight.

"Well, then," Gabriel leaned in close, his words a quiet clipped staccato, "I suggest you lower your voices before this crowd of faithful believers finds out that the Mommy and Daddy of the _chosen child_ despise each other."

Then he was gone quickly before either of them could respond.

Clarke just gaped at the man's colossal nerve, while Bellamy let out an angry hiss.

She put a calming hand on his arm.

"That guy's a complete jackass, Bellamy. Don't let him get to you. I can't figure out how he even got elected to the Triumvirate. Most of these people seem like they'd have too much sense."

He gave her a short nod, but the telltale tic in his jaw told her he was still annoyed. But Clarke wasn't letting anything, including Gabriel's unwelcome interruption, derail this conversation.

"So. You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah, I've been... thinking maybe we should. Look, I've got some security stuff to take care of tomorrow, but what about the day after? We could maybe, uh, go for another picnic if it's a nice day."

Clarke's pulse leaped as soon as she heard the word _picnic_.

 _Or maybe you could just come home with me right now. Pretty sure Mom would be happy to take Madi for the night._

She didn't say it, of course, instead agreeing to his plan quickly before they could be interrupted again.

Clarke was so relieved that Bellamy had finally decided to communicate with her that when David came by a moment later with yet another group of his uber devout flock, she was able to dredge up her thousandth smile of the night with very little trouble. She nodded to Bellamy that she _had this one_ , that he could make himself agreeable elsewhere, and he left her with a smile and a wave.

But it wasn't long before she began to regret her affability, discomfort creeping up her spine when David rapturously declared to the group that Clarke's impending motherhood would "change the world." And she once again recalled just how much the religious fervor of this particular member of the Triumvirate reminded her of Titus kom Trikru.

It was a comparison that filled her with dread.

So much so that when someone tapped her on the shoulder a moment later, she turned eagerly, ready for any diversion. Even, as it turned out, if that diversion was a return appearance by the loathsome Gabriel.

"Sorry to interrupt, Clarke, but may I speak with you for a minute?" he asked quietly.

Clarke considered, trying to decide if she'd prefer to put up with the zealot or the jackass. The jackass won out.

"Excuse me, David," she said politely. "Gabriel needs to talk to me."

As they moved away from the others, Gabriel muttered in her ear, "I see you've already managed to charm David's little circle of admirers."

Clarke halted, sighing wearily. This man really tried her patience.

"Was there something you wanted to say, Gabriel? Because I'm about ready to go home."

His handsome face appeared suddenly contrite. "Of course. I just wanted to apologize for butting in on your conversation with Bellamy earlier. You're both doing us a great service and it's none of my business if you don't get along."

Clarke frowned. His apology almost sounded... sincere, even if his conclusions were utterly off-base. But she saw no point in correcting them; let him think what he liked. She also recognized the wisdom of not starting a feud with one of the city's leaders. Not when so much depended on their goodwill.

Even if he _was_ an idiot.

She forced herself to smile. "Apology accepted. Now I think I'm ready to leave, so if you'll excuse me..."

"I wonder," he asked, as though suddenly inspired, "if anyone has thought to show you the prophecy."

Clarke was surprised.

"Show it to me? There's something to look at?"

His smile became conspiratorial.

"Indeed. But it's too important to leave out on display, so we keep it securely locked up. Not everyone is allowed a look, of course, but I think, under the circumstances, you certainly have that right."

Clarke was intrigued. "So where is this thing?"

"Right in this building. Would you like to take a peek?"

Clarke shrugged. She was tired, but if it was right in the building, how much could it delay her? And maybe if she saw it, maybe if she saw the damn prophecy actually _written down_ somewhere, the whole thing would become more real to her.

"Sure, why not?"

"Great," he nodded pleasantly. "This way."

They left the Great Hall by a door tucked away in a back corner, and Clarke soon found herself in a corridor along which were small rooms that looked like offices. Was the prophecy thing locked up in an office safe somewhere?

But they didn't stop, continuing on until they reached a staircase.

"Just a couple of flights down," he said. "Easier to maintain a controlled temperature in the basement."

She hoped it was only a couple of flights, because Clarke was used to wearing comfortable boots and her feet were definitely getting tired in the new shoes. But sure enough, after two flights of stairs, they turned down another hallway until Gabriel finally stopped in front of what looked to Clarke like a heavy metal door.

"At last," he said, turning to smile at her as he opened the door and stepped aside. "Please, after you."

Clarke stepped through the doorway and was confused to suddenly find herself in utter darkness. Not the darkness of an unlit room, she quickly realized as she felt a cool breeze across her face, but the blackness of a completely moonless night.

She started to turn, to ask Gabriel if he'd maybe opened the wrong door, but before she could say even a single word, Clarke felt a small pinprick on the back her neck.

And immediately the darkness was also inside her head.


	9. Chapter 9

She woke slowly, her eyes fluttering open while her brain worked hard at trying to figure out exactly where she was.

For Clarke, the sensation was both disorienting and disturbingly familiar.

It had happened once before, this feeling of _unknowing_. But that time, she'd awoken to bright lights and white walls, and everything she was wearing had been strangely new and clean.

This time was different. This time, she'd woken to such utter darkness that she couldn't make out her hand in front of her, or see the bed beneath her. Or the walls she knew must be enclosing her.

Then Clarke shifted her head just a little, and a wave of dizziness swept over her. She tried to hold it back, tried to stay awake, but the blackness engulfed her and she slipped away again.

When she woke next, the gray light of early morning was streaming in through a window set high in the wall on the opposite side of the room. She turned her head slowly, experimentally, and was relieved when the faintness didn't return.

Lying still on the bed, she felt all over herself, but couldn't find any part of her body that was tender to the touch, or anything that seemed like an injury. Nevertheless, she gingerly swung her legs around and off the bed, carefully placing her feet on the smooth wooden floor.

When Clarke looked down, she saw that she was still wearing the dress from the party. It was wrinkled now, the material's faint iridescence distorted by its use as sleepwear. She glanced around, noting that besides the bed, the only other things in the room were a small table and an even smaller wooden stool.

There was a pitcher and glass on the table, and Clarke poured out the water thankfully, drinking greedily. She supposed it could be drugged or otherwise contaminated, but it made little difference. She'd learned long ago that hydration was essential to the human body.

On the stool were clean garments, light drawstring pants and a loose shirt in the style worn daily by most Eligians. She stripped off the dress and used some of the water to hastily clean her face and body before slipping on the new clothes.

It was then that she realized there'd been no shoes in the little pile of clothes. No everyday sandals or boots, not even the dressy pumps she'd been wearing at the party.

Clarke shrugged. She'd gone barefoot before and she figured she could do it again. And footwear was far less important right at the moment than figuring out _first_ , where she was, and _second_ , how to get the hell away from there.

She'd barely started down that train of thought when she heard a sharp knock, followed immediately by the door opening.

"Ah, you're awake, Clarke," Gabriel said pleasantly. Just as though he hadn't drugged her and dragged her away from the party. Just like he hadn't fucking _abducted_ her.

"What the hell, Gabriel! I might have been changing!"

He shrugged. "I can have a dozen attractive and willing women anytime I want. No need to spy on you."

"Great. I'm relieved to hear it," she said dryly. "Then you won't mind getting one of those willing women here right now so I can leave this place - wherever the hell it is - and go home."

"I'm hurt, Clarke," he said, his faint whining tone patently fake. "You don't seem to appreciate the honor I've bestowed in inviting you to my home."

 _His home?_ She hadn't expected that.

"Somehow this feels less like an invitation and more like coercion. If you have all these other willing women, what do you need with me?"

"Ah. Well. Although I must admit you really are quite something," his accompanying wink was a grotesque parody of flirtation, "that's not why you're here."

"It's... not."

"Sadly, no. While I certainly wouldn't mind spending several pleasant hours in bed with you, I'm more interested in what's going on inside you."

"Inside..."

"Really, Clarke," Gabriel clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I was sure you were cleverer than that."

And that's when it hit her. This was not some heavy-handed attempt at seduction by an egotistical lout. It was something altogether different. And far more sinister.

When her hands unconsciously folded over her abdomen, Gabriel smiled slyly.

"I do believe you've figured it out."

"If you do anything to hurt this baby, I'll kill you," she said immediately, surprising even herself.

Gabriel seemed momentarily taken aback, as though not quite believing she would actually threaten him. But he recovered quickly.

"Why would I want to harm the child, Clarke? When it's my ticket to the big prize."

Like a kaleidoscope, Clarke's perspective shifted again as she tried to absorb this new information.

"The big prize?"

"Why don't you come downstairs and have some food? I can explain it all to you. But you can rest assured that hurting the prophecy child - or its mother - is the last thing on my mind."

Clarke stared at him, trying to figure out if she would lose some psychological advantage by complying, but she understood that, as always, the most valuable thing she could acquire was information. Besides, she was hungry.

She nodded slowly. "Okay. As soon as I find my shoes."

Gabriel smiled patronizingly, his nostrils flaring in disdain.

"You won't be needing shoes while you're staying with me. Every floor is covered in the finest of materials. And as for you leaving the house?" He stared at her, his eyes as cold as ice. "That won't be happening."

XXXXXXXXXX

As far as she was concerned, his explanations began with the same kind of bullshit rationalizations that all arrogant would-be despots seemed to offer. The only things that ever changed were the details _._ And the longer he spoke, the clearer it became to Clarke that Gabriel's plans had been in the works for a long time.

 _Years_.

"It's just the natural order of things, Clarke." The words rolled off his tongue with absolute conviction. "This colony, this city, was never meant to be governed by the mediocre masses. When I think of how much progress might have been made if only the right people had been in charge for the last half-century, it sickens me."

She nodded as though totally absorbed. "The right people?"

"Those who truly represent and understand the teachings of my great-uncle and my grandfather. The first Gabriel Cadogan."

Clarke nearly choked on her bread and fruit. How the hell had she not known that Gabriel was a Cadogan? Only years of self-control kept her from giving away how disturbed she was by this revelation.

"Teachings? Are you talking about Second Dawn? But... what about David? Surely he qualifies. I mean, isn't he a devout believer?"

"David!" His contempt was palpable. "David doesn't understand anything! He thinks that anyone can be a true disciple. Can be one of the chosen."

"But I thought that was how you all came to be on this planet. That you were _all_ , uh, the chosen."

"Our ancestors were, yes. But it doesn't follow that everyone in the next generation - and the _next_ \- would be equally worthy. They're... good enough to be allowed to remain in the city, perhaps, but to let them all have a say in choosing who will guide them is utter folly." Gabriel shook his head. "That is better left to those who understand."

Clarke couldn't stop herself from asking. "Understand... what?"

A rapt smile lit his features. "Everything."

 _Okay, then._

"And Oriana?"

"Is... worthier than David. But she takes too much upon herself! She's the one who persuaded David to accept your people and I was forced to go along." He shrugged. "But at least, because of that, I found the answer to a question I've been asking myself for a while now."

"And what's that?" But Clarke was almost sure she already knew.

"That I can't wait any longer. That I need to act _now_."

Clarke pushed aside the empty fruit bowl and turned to face Gabriel directly.

"You're planning a coup." It wasn't a question. She'd known from almost his first words and saw no point in dancing around it.

He shrugged, his full lips twisting in a superior smile.

" _You_ may call it that. I call it... fulfilling my destiny."

"But... can it possibly be successful? The city is well-guarded. I've seen the patrols everywhere."

"Ah." Gabriel indulged in a knowing smile. "But perhaps there's a fox in the henhouse."

"You've... bought off the guard?"

"Clarke, please! There's been no need for _buying off_ , as you so crudely put it. There are others who believe as I do that those who are the true descendants of the chosen must be allowed to take charge. So that this city can reach its full potential."

"So... you control a few well-placed members of the guard and expect the rest will fall in line."

He gazed at her like a proud teacher applauding the acumen of a clever student. "Something like that."

Clarke nodded slowly. "What I don't understand is... where do I come in?"

Her question seemed to amuse him. "You can be startlingly direct, Clarke. But... I find I like that about you."

Clarke worked hard to suppress the nausea his approval induced in her.

"Sometimes it's the only way to find out what you need to know."

Gabriel was silent for a few moments, and she began to fear he wasn't going to answer her after all.

But then he shrugged.

"I can't see where it does any harm for you to know. You are my ace in the hole, Clarke. All the Eligians can talk about right now is the child of the prophecy. So if there is any reluctance on the part of the people to... go along with the regime change, I want it firmly understood that the child, and its mother, are on my side."

Clarke waited a beat.

"And if I refuse to go along with being the mascot in this little revolution of yours?"

That brought a laugh from Gabriel, but there was no mirth in his eyes.

"I think you'll find you have little choice in the matter. A lot of your people will be depending on my goodwill."

"And what makes you think someone won't come looking for me? Or at the very least wonder where I am."

"Someone like?"

"Like... my daughter, for instance."

"Ah, yes, the delightful Madi. Whom I believe your people look to as some kind of child leader. It's really rather... quaint. But Madi won't be looking for you, Clarke. She knows you've retreated to our famous mountain spa for a few days of rest."

"And who would have told her that lie?"

"Why, your mother told her, of course. I've heard it's remarkable how close the two of them have grown since you arrived..."

 _Her mother?_ Clarke felt her first spurt of real panic.

"How the hell did you get my mother to go along with this? And don't tell me she believed any bullshit about a mountain retreat."

"Alas, the good doctor has a somewhat suspicious nature and had to be persuaded."

"Persuaded... how?"

"I understand she and Ambassador Kane are... close, and that he's recently suffered some severe injuries. It would be a shame if he had a sudden relapse after doing so well."

Clarke stilled as the whole sorry scheme played out in her head. They'd threatened Kane to coerce Abby into telling Madi - and presumably everyone else - that she was on some weird _retreat_.

"But that's not going to work forever! Eventually, they'll be looking for me to return."

Gabriel smiled. "Well, you see, that's the beauty of it, Clarke. In a few days it will all be over, and then you really _will_ be at that mountain retreat. Until the baby is safely delivered. After that... well, I'm sure you'll want to stay with your child, won't you?"

Clarke fought down the panic that now threatened to engulf her. Goddammit! She'd been in tighter spots than this and she'd made it through. If a small voice inside her head kept reminding her that none of those times had she been pregnant, she told herself to bloody well ignore it.

But as she fought to remain calm, Clarke couldn't help an involuntary glance towards the window. And freedom.

"Don't even bother," Gabriel said, noting the direction of her gaze. "This place is locked up tight, every door, every window. And even if you could get out, there are guards posted here and there along the drive to the locked gate. Which, by the way, is some distance away. After that, it's several miles to the city. So just... put it out of your head that you'll be going anywhere at all except exactly where I want you to."

"Guards? A locked gate? I thought this was your home."

Clarke knew her mocking was pointless, mere bravado, but it was all she had left. If she could still mock Gabriel, maybe she wouldn't fear him quite so much.

But he only shrugged and said mildly, "I've found it pays to be... vigilant."

"And am I to be kept under lock and key inside, too? Considering this place is guarded better than a fucking fort!"

"Oh, I think we can let you have the run of the place. As long as you promise to stay away from any locked rooms. Or do anything stupid, like try to run away."

Clarke sighed with what she hoped sounded like exasperation, but was in fact fury. "Without shoes or a weapon? Do I look like some kind of ninja?"

Gabriel laughed. "You look like anything but, Clarke. So go ahead, look around. And make sure to take in my sword collection," he added, his face puffed up with pride. "They were brought here by the first chosen ones and I've been collecting them for years. Just try not to hurt yourself."

By that time, she'd finished her lunch, and Clarke felt strangely exhausted. She began to wonder if in fact her water - or the food - _had_ been drugged. But if so, she was just going to have to deal with it.

Because she hadn't _twice_ escaped from a fucking vampire cult, survived countless attempts on her life, crossed figurative swords with a murderous computer, and endured a planet-destroying death wave, just to be taken down by _this_ pompous asshole.

One way or another, she was damn well getting out of there.

XXXXXXXXXX

True to his word, after lunch Gabriel ordered Clarke's room to be left unlocked. If - as she'd pointed out to him - for no other reason than that pregnant women needed frequent access to the bathroom. But fatigue had overcome her almost immediately and she slept most of the rest of that day, and all the following night.

But the sleep had been restorative. When she woke the next morning, the overwhelming exhaustion seemed to have completely receded, and she hoped like hell it was just a leftover reaction from her initial drugging.

In fact, she almost felt like her old self again. If, that is, her old self had had another person growing inside her.

Clarke ruthlessly thrust that thought aside, telling herself that what she really needed was a plan. Some way to help herself. She always felt better when she had something to focus on; it was just how her mind worked. Whereas Bellamy...

Her brain pulled up short at the sudden realization that this was the day she was supposed to have spent with Bellamy. A Bellamy who'd finally decided he wanted to talk.

Dammit!

Clarke grit her teeth and let out a long frustrated breath. When she didn't show and he got that bullshit story about her mountainretreat _,_ he'd probably think she'd just blown him off!

Another grievance to add to the growing list she planned to hold Gabriel Cadogan accountable for.

"Payback's a bitch," she muttered under her breath, throwing on her clothes and heading out for breakfast.

Once she'd eaten, Clarke set about exploring the house, an enormous collection of long hallways and mostly unused rooms, all kept dust-free by Gabriel's hard-working housekeeper. The woman, a gray-haired, timid-looking sort, was just finishing her cleaning rounds when Clarke happened to run into her.

For one second, Clarke thought about trying to speak to the woman, maybe getting some insight into the layout of the house, but when she offered her a tentative smile, the housekeeper eyed her warily, scampering quickly away.

Clarke sighed. It appeared she'd be on her own after all, and since the house was such a maze she was glad she'd always been fascinated with maps. Creating a mental map of the house ate up the next several hours, but at least she was finally able to find her way around with ease. Unfortunately, as of mid-day that was her _only_ accomplishment.

She'd eventually stumbled onto the sword collection, of course. The room it was housed in took up such a large chunk of the ground floor that she could hardly have missed it.

There were dozens of magnificent weapons there, some displayed in glass cases, others merely affixed to the wall. On a whim, she carefully removed one of the smaller swords from its moorings but found it pretty damned awkward to swing with any sort of force or accuracy.

Now if there'd been a decent spear in that lot...

But, no, that wouldn't have helped her. Clarke knew that what she really needed was an altogether different sort of weapon. Something she could use to get into Gabriel's head, that would persuade him - or force him - to let her go.

And she wasn't going to find it in the sword room.

She had begun to despair finding it anywhere at all when her well-honed instinct for self-preservation finally kicked in around mid-afternoon. It had suddenly occurred to her that one particular off-limits room, one that was tucked away in a back corner of the main floor, seemed to have an awful lot of activity.

Making sure to keep well out of sight, Clarke began to focus her interest on that one room.

Frustratingly, while she saw Gabriel and the others going in and out of the room several times, she was never able to catch a glimpse inside. Until late in the day, just as both suns were beginning to set, when she finally got lucky.

As she watched from a shadowed doorway, one of Gabriel's henchmen turned to answer a question just as he was stepping out of the mystery room. Leaving the door slightly ajar for no more than ten seconds.

But that was long enough.

Long enough for Clarke to see that this was, in fact, Gabriel's office. To watch him put something away in what was very obviously a safe. And to wonder what the hell might be _in_ that safe.

And definitely long enough to decide that it was desperately important that she get into that room and into that safe.

Clarke squared her shoulders in determination. She finally had herself a goal. Now she just had to figure out how to reach it.

XXXXXXXXXX

She spent hours that night turning it all over in her head, considering every option, but when morning came she finally decided to go with the simplest plan. She would _borrow_ the housekeeper's key, the one she'd seen dangling from her cleaning trolley the day before.

It would have to be perfectly timed, of course, so that she removed it just as the woman reached the long hallway of unused bedrooms where the key would not be missed. With any luck - and Clarke was utterly determined that luck would be on her side - she could get into Gabriel's office, and into his safe, and still return the key before it was ever missed.

She knew she should probably worry about what might happen if she were caught, but she couldn't afford to think that way. Gabriel had said the coup was happening _now_ , and that within days she'd be taken to the mountains. If he actually managed to pull it off, who knew what might happen to everyone she loved? Any outcome was better than losing them all over again.

So it was a risk she was determined to take. To get away, to save herself, to save them all.

The first part of the plan worked like a charm. As soon as the housekeeper headed into the first unused bedroom, Clarke darted from her hiding place and grabbed the key, racing as quietly as possible on bare feet down the center staircase and along the back hallway to the office. It was still fairly early, and she was counting on the room being empty.

When she turned the key, the click of the lock sounded like thunder in that quiet corridor, and Clarke paused, breath held, heart pounding, waiting to be caught out. But when no one came, she cracked open the door, slipped inside, and carefully closed it behind her.

The safe had been on the opposite wall, she recalled, and she saw now that a clumsy attempt had been made to "hide" it behind a picture. She swung the frame out easily enough, revealing a safe with a key-pad locking system. Clarke been afraid that with the Eligians DNA-based technology, the safe might have required an eye-scan or a handprint to open, but this looked like pretty standard stuff. Just a numeric code to enter into the keypad.

Of course, the trick was... what code?

Clarke rejected the idea that he'd use either his first or last name. Even for a narcissist like Gabriel that would be particularly stupid. If it was his date of birth, then she was going to be shit out of luck, because she had no idea when that was.

She was considering a look through his desk, on the faint hope that he'd have the code written down somewhere, when her eyes fell again on the framed picture that had covered the safe, a photograph of Bill Cadogan speaking to a crowd at a Second Dawn gathering. Bill hadn't made it to this new planet, but he was obviously revered here, especially by his great-nephew.

Clarke had thought him a lunatic, with his twelve levels and his special coins. She recalled the day that Jaha had told them about Cadogan, how they'd found the decrepit bunker and Bellamy had dug that old coin out of the dirt. The same coin Monty had eventually burned into a key to open the real bunker.

What the hell had been the inscription?

As she recalled the words, Clarke felt a sudden prickling up her spine, and the hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

 _Could that really be it?_

She looked again at Cadogan's picture, trying to decide, knowing she might have only the one chance to get it right.

"Fuck it!" she muttered. She had nothing else. Eyeing the keys carefully, with shaking hands she slowly began to punch in the numbers.

 _9394557473_

 _WE WILL RISE_

Then she pulled the lever and like some magician had waved a wand, the damn thing actually opened.

Clarke gasped in surprise, but she had little time for self-congratulation. She quickly began to rifle through the contents of the safe, and at first all she found was a lot of Eligian currency and some of Gabriel's personal papers. But she kept digging, and soon enough she hit the mother load. Buried in the back corner was a flash drive, one she'd bet her life contained every single detail of Gabriel's planned coup.

Hot damn! Should she take it? If she did, where could she possibly hide it when Gabriel discovered - as he surely would - that it was gone?

Clarke was still holding the flash drive, still undecided, when she heard the first sounds of a commotion, shouts from somewhere inside the house.

And then her name.

"Clarke! Where the hell is that bitch?"

Goddammit! _She couldn't be found in that room._

She quickly replaced the flash drive in the safe, then closed and locked it, swinging Cadogan's picture back into place. Then she padded to the door, listening carefully before opening it a crack. With no one on sight, she slipped out, shutting it silently behind her and running like hell for the center staircase, her heart hammering the entire time.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

Clarke had reached the bottom of the staircase and wheeled around when she heard the angry voice. Not Gabriel, but one of his men, the short wiry one with a face like a ferret.

Clarke had no idea of his name.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Just exploring. Gabriel said it was okay..."

"Yeah? Well, explorations have been canceled. You're going back to your room and you're gonna stay there like a good little girl and not make a sound."

 _What the hell had happened?_

She avoided the man's hand when he tried to grab onto her, instead walking quickly ahead of him up the stairs and down the hall to her room. When they got to the door, he shoved her roughly inside.

"Keep your mouth shut," he warned again before locking her in.

Clarke sat quietly on her bed, as the sounds of activity died down inside the house, only to be replaced by some new commotion outside. She strained to hear, but could catch only the cadence of Gabriel's voice, not his actual words.

When she heard a new voice, Clarke's heart nearly stopped.

 _It couldn't be!_

She hurriedly dragged her stool over to the window and climbed onto it, her face just barely reaching the very bottom window pane. Angling her head carefully so that she wouldn't be seen herself, Clarke was just able to observe the area around the front door.

 _Where Gabriel Cadogan was having a very animated discussion with Bellamy Blake._

Bellamy, who'd somehow gotten the use of one of the Eligians' few motorized vehicles. Who'd somehow gotten directions to Gabriel's house. _Who'd somehow come up with an excuse to be there_.

His deep voice sounded much louder than usual and that's when Clarke knew for sure. That this was no coincidence. That no matter what bullshit he was currently feeding Gabriel, Bellamy knew she was there, had come to rescue her, and wanted her to hear him. Wherever she might be.

"Oriana was good enough to lend me the vehicle," he was telling Gabriel matter-of-factly. "I reminded her you'd invited me and she said your collection was well worth seeing." He shrugged. "But of course if you've changed your mind I can leave..."

While she couldn't hear his words, she watched Gabriel's face as he struggled with - and finally gave in to - his desire to show off his prized collection of swords.

As he followed Gabriel to the door, Bellamy looked up at her window, almost as though he knew she was there _._ It was impossible, of course, but her heart still gave a little jolt.

After they disappeared inside, Clarke stood at the window shaking with both elation and fear.

Bellamy had come to rescue her and... what the _hell_ did he think he was doing?

Coming here alone with such a flimsy excuse, there was a damn good chance he was going to get himself killed! It was absolutely, positively, not worth the risk.

She sighed in frustration. He'd put his life on the line for her - _again_ \- and she couldn't even help him because she was locked inside this damn room!

It wasn't until she jumped off the stool and it jiggled in her pants pocket that she finally remembered.

 _She still had the housekeeper's key_.


	10. Chapter 10

Clarke twisted the key in the lock as quietly as possible, despite her conviction that Gabriel wouldn't have bothered to leave a man posted outside her room.

Why should he when she was so securely locked in?

Still, life had taught her to be wary and it was a lesson she had learned well.

But when she cracked the door open, she found she'd been right. No one outside her door. She swung her head left and right. No one anywhere in sight.

She dropped the key back into her pocket and slipped silently into the corridor.

And paused. _Now what?_

She'd been so overjoyed when she remembered that key that she'd rushed to the door with no idea about what to do next. No plan. Convinced only that she needed to help Bellamy, that if she didn't hurry he'd be in grave danger. But she knew rushing around without thought would not only be fruitless but probably more risky than doing nothing at all.

And then her hand closed over the key again, her fingers rubbed the smooth metal, and she wondered why the hell she was being so dense. Between them, she and Bellamy had _everything_ they needed not only to get her away from this place but to completely foil Gabriel's plans for a coup.

She was exceedingly grateful for the mental map she'd made of the house when she recalled the narrow back staircase that ran from one end of the unused bedroom wing down to the short corridor where the office was located. It would allow her to reach the main floor while still avoiding the central staircase, and any of Gabriel's men who might be lurking there.

The bedroom wing was completely silent, and although the cleaning trolley was in evidence, the housekeeper herself was nowhere in sight. Clarke slipped quietly past the cart, hurried down the hallway, and practically ran down that back stairway.

She halted there briefly, but eventually decided that with Gabriel otherwise occupied his office was more than likely empty.

Clarke quickly unlocked the office door, closing it noiselessly behind her, and rushed across the room to the wall safe. With confident fingers, she once again typed in Gabriel's rather fanciful code—

E

— and depressed the lever, watching as the door swung open soundlessly.

She knew what she was looking for this time, immediately reaching past the papers and the cash to the back of the safe, fishing around for the flash drive. But her hands hit something else instead. Something larger and heavier and entirely unexpected that she'd somehow missed the first time around.

A gun.

She pulled it out with shaking fingers, and gaped at it. Firearms were not common in Eligius, and she and Bellamy had been happy they'd buried their own cache of weapons long before they reached the city. They were - all of them - sick of war, and had agreed they wouldn't retrieve the weapons without a damn good reason.

Clarke was pretty sure that Gabriel turning the city into his own little kingdom would probably have qualified.

But that wasn't going to happen. Not if she could help it.

The gun in her hands was made of some sort of non-metallic material. Ceramic, she thought, or maybe a hard resin. It looked fairly new, and when she clicked back the slide and checked the chamber, she found that it was in good working order and fully loaded.

Damn! She couldn't believe her luck, because _this_ was a weapon she knew how to use. The last thing Clarke had wanted was to ever again have shoot anyone, but she knew she'd still do it if it meant freeing herself. Or protecting Bellamy. Or stopping Gabriel.

She slid the the gun into her left pants pocket, and although it weighed her down a bit, it was a comforting, reassuring weight. Than she quickly found the flash drive and took that, too. Within seconds, she'd closed the safe, slipped carefully out of the room, and locked the door behind her, sliding the key in next to the flash drive in her right pocket.

In the two days she'd been there, Clarke had observed only four different men in Gabriel's gang of revolutionaries. No doubt there were others in different locations - those traitorous guards Gabriel had mentioned, for instance - but unless he had another place to feed or house them nearby, only those four were stationed at the house.

As she came around the corner toward the main hall, she could see only one of them - the same weaselly-looking asshole who'd whisked her upstairs earlier. She supposed there could be another inside the sword room, but somehow she doubted it. It wouldn't do for Gabriel to be seen as needing a personal guard with someone as _lightweight_ as Bellamy Blake. A man who had proven himself useful only as a sperm donor.

In fact, Clarke suspected Gabriel viewed all the new people with that same degree of contempt, seeing them as weak and ineffectual. The result, she was sure, of their decision to keep as low a profile as possible.

She couldn't help her tiny smirk when she imagined that he would soon find out how wrong he was.

Just as soon as she could get rid of the man in the hall.

As she mulled the problem over, Clarke glanced up casually... to find that the gray-haired housekeeper was at the top of the stairs, and was staring straight into her eyes.

Fuck! How the hell could she have been so careless? She reached into her pocket, felt the heavy weight of the gun, knew she'd have only seconds to react after the woman gave her away. But then...

"Jacko, could you come upstairs and give me a hand, please? I got the cord all tangled up around the vacuum and I can't get it untangled."

Clarke muffled her gasp of surprise as she moved further into the shadows.

"I don't know, Grace. I mean, I'm supposed to stay here and keep watch."

"What are you watching for? Has something happened?"

The woman sounded bewildered, but Clarke knew it had to be act. She'd already _seen_ her.

"You didn't hear the commotion? The guys on the drive thought we had an intruder."

"An intruder? Here?" Grace sounded shocked.

"Yeah, well it was all a mistake. Turned out to be a... ah... visitor."

"Well, then?"

"You're right, it's stupid to just be standing around here. Whaddya need?" Jacko had begun to climb the stairs.

Hmph. It appeared that Jacko the asshole wasn't always an asshole, and that he had a soft spot for Grace. And goddammit if it didn't _also_ appear that Gabriel's housekeeper was some kind of... turncoat.

Clarke wondered if she knew who Clarke was, had maybe even been at the meeting, or the gala. Perhaps the woman truly believed in the prophecy's child and was afraid for Clarke.

Or maybe she just despised her employer. Clarke was more than willing to give full marks to that possibility.

Either way, while her immediate problem was solved, she knew she had to move quickly.

The sword room was so large that there was a door at either end, and both led into the main hallway. When she put her ear to the door nearest the staircase, the voices were muffled but still loud enough to tell her that the men were at that end of the room. She locked that door from the outside as quietly as possible and moved to the door further down the hall.

Clarke recognized this moment as the one that would either make or break her, and she sent up a silent prayer to any god who might be inclined to listen before slowly turning the knob. While every little click of the latch sounded like thunder to her ears, her entrance seemed to have gone unnoticed by the others in the room.

Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Clarke carefully locked the door behind her and tucked herself into the shadows of a tall cabinet to listen, and to wait.

Bellamy and Gabriel were standing next to the far wall, their bodies angled in such a way that Clarke didn't have a full view of their faces. But she could see their movements and hear their voices clearly.

"This is an impressive collection," Bellamy was saying admiringly, as he clumsily hefted a sword in his hand. "Even larger than the one in the government offices."

Clarke smirked at the deference he was paying to Gabriel, a man she knew Bellamy despised. But he seemed it be pulling it off nicely.

Gabriel snorted derisively.

"That was originally my father's collection. He spent years gathering together many of the weapons that had come from Earth with the first Eligians."

Bellamy nodded. "So... why did they bring the swords with them when they made the journey here? The things weren't exactly commonplace on 21st century Earth."

Gabriel shrugged. This was clearly a point in which he had little interest.

"No one's sure, but my father always said that Bill Cadogan - my great-uncle who stayed behind - had some kind of fascination with them. Thought everyone should have his own sword because they were the only pure weapon."

"Pure weapon?"

Gabriel shifted his head just enough for Clarke to glimpse the patronizing smile. "Just you and the sword, Blake. Takes a lot of skill to wield the things properly, but they can do a lot of damage." He paused, adding pompously. "I've been training with them for years."

Listening from the shadows, it was impossible for Clarke not to make the connection between Bill Cadogan and all those grounder swords back on Earth. She figured Bellamy had to be thinking the same thing.

But he merely nodded and said, "And your father left his collection to the city?"

"Yes. When he should have left it to his only son." Gabriel couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of his voice. "He thought it was more important to "'preserve the city's history'."

Clarke heard the disdain, and was certain that phrase must have been exactly how his father had justified his choice. And equally certain the man's rationale had been soundly rejected and his actions passionately resented by his son.

"But I've spent years building my own collection," he continued, the pride oozing out in every word, "and now it surpasses anything my father ever dreamed of. It's bigger, more varied. And I keep it in better condition. Every edge is razor sharp."

Bellamy merely nodded, glancing around at the vast array of weapons, asking casually, "And will you leave your collection to the city, too? Make it a family tradition?"

Clarke silently saluted Bellamy's cleverness. The question was so innocuous that the needle was well-hidden.

Gabriel immediately bristled.

"Not a chance. I'll be leaving my collection to my son."

"Ah, I hadn't realized you had a son."

The remark was so utterly banal that if Clarke hadn't known better she might almost have believed it to be just an innocent comment.

"Or a wife," Bellamy added after a moment, his tone still deceptively bland. As though it were an afterthought.

Gabriel laughed. "I have neither at the moment. But I'm working on changing that."

"Oh?"

He gave Bellamy a sly smile. "Of course, I wouldn't mind knowing what she's like in the sack before I commit myself. So... maybe you can give me a hint or two."

There was a short silence, and Clarke saw Bellamy's back stiffen. His head shifted slightly toward Gabriel as he asked in a tone curiously devoid of expression, "Are you talking about Clarke?"

Gabriel smirked. "No matter what kind of bullshit Oriana puts out, Blake, we both know that you and Clarke aren't really together. So, okay. Took you a while but you got the job done. Now you can move on to some other woman and leave a tasty morsel like Clarke Griffin to someone a little more... into her. And then, after she has this damn prophecy child, she can have mine. _My_ son. But..." he shrugged, "I wouldn't mind hearing about what I have to look forward to. A little preview of what's between those gorgeous legs."

Gabriel was practically leering at him, and even from across the room, Clarke fancied she could feel Bellamy's loathing rolling off him in waves. Or maybe it was just her own, reflected back at her.

"I'm not really a kiss and tell kind of guy," he said finally, his voice tight.

Clarke was proud of Bellamy's restraint, considering how much she knew he hated the man. And the trash talk. Now if she could only figure out a way to let him know she was there without alerting Gabriel, then maybe...

But it seemed Gabriel Cadogan wasn't quite done making an ass of himself.

"Oh, come on, Blake! I don't need a lot of details, I just want to know if that pussy is really as sweet as I think it must..."

Gabriel's voice ground to a halt, the sharp point of the sword at his throat suddenly interfering with his ability to speak.

It had happened so quickly that across the room Clarke gasped audibly in surprise, but the men were too preoccupied to notice.

"Where is she?" Bellamy's voice was biting now. Harsh.

"Wh-what?"

" _Clarke_. What the fuck have you done with her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about! And if you have any hope of leaving this house in one piece, you'll get that thing out of my face!"

"Cut the shit. Clarke's been missing for three days and I know she's not on any damn _retreat_."

Gabriel shrugged, his body language clearly denying any knowledge of her whereabouts. At the same time, his eyes darted about, searching for a way out.

And then he found it.

In a movement Clarke was unhappily surprised to see him pull off, Gabriel leapt away from Bellamy's sword, and within seconds had grabbed a weapon from the wall and thrust it in front of himself in a classic defensive stance. For a moment, the two men paused to study one another, taking each other's measure.

Gabriel's lip curled disdainfully. "You must have some kind of death wish, Blake. Because you have no idea what I'm capable of."

Bellamy moved his own sword to a defensive position, cocking a brow and asking quietly, "Do we really need to do this, Cadogan? You took Clarke and now I want you to give her back. That's it. These fucking things are dangerous, so let's not do something stupid."

"It's a little late for that. You stuck that blade in my face, and now I want to see if you have the balls to finish what you started."

Clarke was shocked at how out of control the situation had suddenly become. She moved a little way out of the shadows, desperate for a better view. Watched as the two of them circled one another, Cadogan arrogant, Bellamy wary.

When Gabriel finally lunged, Bellamy was ready. He sidestepped easily, avoiding the blow, whirling away so quickly that even Clarke was astonished at his agility. As for Gabriel, his surprise at having his opponent escape his attempted strike seemed only to intensify his resolve to teach Bellamy Blake a lesson.

He lunged again, and this time Bellamy was able to block the blow with his sword, using the momentum to push Gabriel back with such force that he very nearly lost his footing and slammed into the wall.

From her spot in the shadows, Clarke could almost feel Gabriel's shock, his disbelief that this weakling from another planet, this man who could be told who he had to sleep with, was not going to be easily bested after all. And the shock seemed to turn his arrogance to anger.

Even Clarke knew you couldn't let anger control you in a fight.

Gabriel's thrusts became steadily wilder as his stamina waned and his strength began to fail. And when a few ineffectual blows landed on Bellamy's shoulders and arms, she knew he must be tiring, too, if only from the strength of will it had to be taking not to answer those blows in kind.

Clarke knew it couldn't go on much longer.

When she saw Gabriel rear back, seeming to gather what was left of his strength, she knew he was making a final desperate effort to disarm Bellamy, win the fight, and save his pride. But his lunge was wildly inaccurate, his aim too wide, and his thrust too weak to reach its mark.

And Bellamy, it appeared, had reached the end of his patience.

This time, he not only sidestepped the blow but whirled quickly around Gabriel, striking heavily at his shoulders and back with deadly accuracy. Gabriel went down hard, winded and flailing, but still stubbornly clutching his sword.

But when Bellamy kicked him in the torso, he fell back with a grunt, finally loosening his fist as the sword clattered to the floor. Bellamy kicked it away, breathing heavily himself, his own sword digging lightly into Gabriel's chest.

"Are we done?"

Disarmed and furious, Gabriel began to bluster.

"I can have one of my men in here in seconds!"

Bellamy shrugged.

"Maybe you can and maybe you can't. But it won't matter to you because you'll be dead before that door finishes opening."

"How the hell do you think this is going to end, Blake?" Gabriel's face was distorted with fury. "Are you really that stupid? If you hurt me, my men will kill you before you leave the room. And you'll never be able to find Clarke," he taunted, finally admitting that he had taken her.

Clarke figured she knew a cue when she heard one.

"I don't think it'll actually be that hard," she said, stepping out of the shadows and moving across the room towards them, gun drawn and trained on Gabriel.

"Clarke!" The relief in Bellamy's voice was palpable.

Gabriel eyed her in outraged disbelief. "You can't be here!"

"And yet, here I am."

"It's great I won't have to look for you," Bellamy said, never taking his eyes off Gabriel, "but you got any ideas about how we're gonna get out of this place?"

"Still working on that. But first we gotta find something to tie him up with."

Bellamy's eyes widened in surprise. "So he can't follow when we leave?"

Clarke shook her head. "Nope. He's coming with us."

"The hell I am!" Gabriel swore, his face tight and angry, but his protests were less strident in the face of both sword and gun.

"Shut up!" Bellamy said sharply, adding a gentle kick to the solar plexus to emphasize his point.

After a frustrated Gabriel finally decided to content himself with a hostile glare, Bellamy side-eyed Clarke curiously.

"I get that you must have your reasons for this, Clarke, and you can tell me what they are later. But if we have to take him along, we're gonna gag this asshole first, because I've had just about enough of his bullshit."

Clarke sighed. "You have no idea."

She still had no plan for getting them out of the house and back to Bellamy's vehicle, especially with a hostile Gabriel in tow. But Clarke couldn't worry about that. Right now it was more important to find a way to eliminate any threat from Gabriel Cadogan. And to shut him the hell up.

First things first.


	11. Chapter 11

Clarke eventually used Gabriel's sword — honed to a razor-sharp edge, just as he'd boasted — to cut up a silky fabric lying beneath one of the glass display cases. Under strenuous protest, a wadded-up section was stuffed into his mouth and another strip tied tightly around his head to hold the gag in place.

"We're going to need something stronger than this to tie his hands," Bellamy told her, his glance falling on the old-fashioned blinds that covered every window. "I think those things go up and down on a cord. See if you can cut off enough to tie him with."

Within minutes, the window cords had been converted into tight bindings, Bellamy doing the honors while Clarke held the gun on Gabriel to ensure his cooperation. He was soon trussed up grounder-style, the cord looping around his shoulders and then knotting his hands together behind his back. Bellamy temporarily secured him to a straight-backed chair.

"Okay, that's done," he said, straightening up. "I could ask for an explanation now, but I'd just as soon get the hell out of here."

"Agreed." She shrugged and headed to the door. "Pointless to wait. We can't go anywhere until we get out of this room."

But when she carefully unlocked and opened the door, she was shocked to find the silent hallway wasn't empty after all. The housekeeper, Grace, was standing like a sentry just outside the room.

Clarke jumped back with a startled gasp, but Grace hurriedly launched into speech.

"You're the mother of the prophecy child, right? I saw you at the meeting."

"That's right," Clark acknowledged warily.

Grace shook her head. "It's not right what Gabriel's doing. His father would be so ashamed."

"Do you mean bringing me here or... other things."

"I mean everything. All of it. He shouldn't have brought you here like that. I saw you, knew you weren't awake, and that was bad enough. But that other stuff," she paused, her lips pinched in disapproval, "I didn't know what to do, but now you can take care of it. You and your man in there."

Clarke wasn't surprised to find that the woman had known what Gabriel had been up to.

"We can only take care of things if we can figure out how to get out of here, Grace. Bring Gabriel into the city so we can turn him over to the authorities. But with all his men roaming around, I don't see how..."

"Through the kitchen door," the woman interrupted, like she'd already thought it all through. "There's no one in there this time of day."

"But Bellamy's vehicle..."

"Is out front. I know. But the men are all outside and none of them know what's happened here. So he just walks out, cool as you please like the visit's over, but instead of driving away, he can circle around to the kitchen entrance. I'll let him in and then you can move Gabriel down the back hallway and into the kitchen."

Clarke nodded. It just might work.

"It's a good plan, Grace, but won't it put you in some danger? If something goes wrong and Gabriel finds out you helped us?"

But the woman looked determined. "You let me worry about that. I owe it to William - Gabriel's father - to see to it his son doesn't disgrace the family name. No matter what."

Clarke nodded in sympathy. She understood that motivation very well. "Okay, if you're sure, I'll tell Bellamy. And, Grace... thanks."

The first part of the plan went like clockwork. Clarke watched through a gap in the blinds as Bellamy casually retrieved his car, giving the three curious men in the main drive a friendly salute. Within minutes, he'd returned to the house, parking as close as possible to the kitchen entrance, with the car facing away from the house for an easier getaway.

Still leaving them with a steep graveled path of about thirty yards to traverse between the house and the vehicle.

The gun Clarke held at his back persuaded Gabriel to cooperate while Bellamy hustled him through the house. But when they stepped through the kitchen doorway and Gabriel saw the vehicle, understood that they were actually spiriting him away, he tried to dig in his heels. Bellamy clutched at his bindings and began to drag him down the incline.

It was at that most inopportune moment that the man Clarke recognized as Jacko suddenly emerged from the dense woods that surrounded the massive house.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing!" he accused loudly.

Clarke turned and trained the gun on him. "Nothing you need to get involved in, Jacko."

But Gabriel, seeing apparent rescue at hand, began to squirm heavily and kick out until Bellamy finally gut-punched him, hefting him over one shoulder, and jogging the last several yards down the rocky incline to yank open the rear door and drop the winded Gabriel onto the seat.

Only to turn and see Gabriel's three other henchmen race around the far corner of the house, clearly alerted by Jacko's shout.

"Clarke, watch out!" he yelled, jerking his head in their direction. "One of them's got a knife!"

She whirled just in time, firing on the fly, happy to find she hadn't lost her skill as the shot grazed the hand of the would-be knifer and his weapon tumbled to the ground. But the quick movement had thrown Clarke off-balance and she missed her footing, going down hard on her back, slipping and sliding several feet down the graveled path.

Her arms, legs, and especially her bare feet caught the brunt of the fall, and when she finally came to a halt she was still several feet from the car. She was winded, and stunned, and her body was beginning to sting from multiple cuts and abrasions.

The wounded man held his bloody hand, looking both shocked and outraged. When the others just looked uncertain, Clarke was sure they weren't armed. But she was still on the ground, still vulnerable, and she didn't want them getting any ideas.

She fired a round into the air.

"Somebody else looking for a bullet?" she shouted, feigning a calmness she certainly didn't feel. "Maybe I can find a sweeter spot than your hand."

She fervently hoped it would be enough to give them pause because she sure as hell didn't want to have to shoot anyone else.

But then Bellamy was suddenly there, hauling her up, grabbing the gun, leveling it at Gabriel's henchmen.

"You thinking about hurting the mother of the prophecy child?" he asked, reminding them who it was they were dealing with.

And that brought them all up short.

"What?" Jacko looked confused. "I thought you was just one of Gabriel's women."

"Does he usually keep his women locked up?" Clarke asked, leaning into Bellamy, trying to hide the fact that she wasn't sure her ankle would hold her weight.

"He usually can't get rid of 'em. Don't matter. You still can't just take him away like that!" he insisted belligerently.

Jacko and the others seemed torn between fear, aggression, and frustration, and it was only made worse when Gabriel suddenly pressed his face into the car window and began banging his head against it. Clarke couldn't help thinking how desperate he must be to risk injuring his pretty face.

But by then, Bellamy and Clarke had reached the vehicle, and he thrust her inside. She quickly scrambled across the bench into passenger's seat.

"We're leaving now," Bellamy told the men, still pointing the gun at them as he slid behind the wheel and pressed the ignition. "But I have plenty of time to shoot you all before we go, or you can just get the hell out of the way."

The four of them jumped back so fast it might have been comical if Clarke had felt at all like laughing.

"Don't worry, Gabriel," Jacko yelled, too fearful to move against the gun, but brave enough to shoot from the lip, "we'll be right behind."

But Bellamy had already shut the door and was taking off quickly down the drive. He tossed Clarke the gun along with a length of cording.

"Can you crawl back there and tie him to the overhead panel? There's some kind of hook at the very back near the hatch door."

When she nodded, he reminded her to watch out for Gabriel's legs.

Clarke slid over the back of the front seat, and crawled toward their captive, frowning.

"Just give me an excuse to shoot you, Gabriel. You sure as hell wouldn't be the first man I ever killed."

Something in her tone must have convinced him, or maybe Gabriel was counting on his men catching up with them. Whatever the reason, he sat motionless while she used the cord to attach his hands to the rearmost section of the overhead panel.

She was about to climb back into the front when she spied what looked like a piece of cloth on the floor, apparently left behind by the vehicle's owner. It turned out to be a scarf of some fluffy woven material, but what surprised Clarke most about it was it's bright yellow color. She had a hard time imagining Oriana, she of the gray and beige pants suits, wearing anything quite so sunny.

Clarke had a sudden inspiration. The scarf was thick, yet loosely-woven, open enough to let air through but heavy enough to muffle sound.

In other words, perfect.

Within seconds, she had the thing draped over Gabriel's head and wrapped loosely around his neck. He did seem to object to this further restriction on his person, twisting his head vigorously in an attempt to get away.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," she muttered, making a loose knot with the garment to secure it in place.

Surely this was more comfortable than the bag over her head she'd had to endure when Roan captured her all those years ago,

Done at last, she climbed back into the front seat.

"I've put something over his head so we can talk," she said.

Bellamy nodded. "Good." But he'd begun to glance worriedly into the rear-view mirror as he negotiated the narrow twisting drive.

"You see anyone following us, Clarke? I don't really want to take my eyes off this damn road."

Clarke turned quickly, peering back into the late morning sun, looking for telltale signs that they were being tailed.

She frowned. "I don't think..." .

And then she heard it, the sound unmistakable, and she couldn't help the short bark of laughter.

"What?"

"Listen."

When a rare grin lit Bellamy's face a moment later, she knew he'd caught it, too. The very distinct whine of an engine that refused turn over.

She figured they both knew why that was.

 _Thank you, Grace,_ she thought with relief, settling into her seat.

"I don't think the cavalry's coming after all, Gabriel," she tossed back to their unwilling passenger. "Better make yourself comfortable for the ride into the city."

XXXXXXXXXX

Clarke watched anxiously as Bellamy carefully keyed the code into the locked gate, the same one they'd radioed to him on the way in.

"I guess they hadn't had time to change it," she said, breathing a sigh of relief when the gate swung silently open, allowing them to pass.

Keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard by their unwilling passenger, Bellamy's questions began as soon as they were back onto the main track.

"So what's going on, Clarke? Why do we have that idiot tied up in the back seat?"

Bellamy took a quick breath, then his voice became raw, like he was he having trouble getting the words out.

"Did he... he didn't hurt you, did he? Assault you?"

"No," Clarke assured him hastily, grasping his arm. "Nothing like that happened. Though just at first... after I woke up in his house... I did think maybe it was some kind of warped attempt at seduction."

Bellamy sucked in a breath, but she could see the relief in his face.

"That fucking asshole still has a lot to answer for. I knew he had a thing for you, but to actually drug you, kidnap you..."

Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. "It's true he may once have been bedazzled by my charms, but I think we're probably well past that now. And anyway, that's not why he took me."

"No?"

"No. Although I think that might have been on the agenda for... afterwards."

"After... what?" His eyes left the road for the briefest moment as he sent her a puzzled glance.

She took a quick breath. "After the coup."

"The... _coup_?" The words came out on a hiss as his brows rose in shocked surprise. "You've got to be kidding me. How the hell did you find out about _that_?"

"Easily. He wasted no time telling me all about it, and how having the prophecy child in his power was now part of his grand plan." She shrugged, and added almost carelessly, "To apparently be followed at a later date by my falling into his arms."

"Jesus!"

Clarke watched as a dozen different expressions crossed Bellamy's face and knew he must be thinking furiously.

"Do you have some kind of proof of all this? Other than what he told you? Something tangible that we can show Oriana?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper as she shifted slightly in her seat and pulled the flash drive from her right pants pocket. "Right here."

Bellamy's eyes widened in surprise. "Where'd you get that?"

"From his safe. Same place I got the gun. But somehow I don't think he's figured out yet that if I have the _one_ I probably have the _other_. And I'm just as happy to have it come as an unpleasant surprise."

"And... how is it that you got into his safe?"

Clarke hesitated. "I think we can leave that story for another day," she said finally. "What _I_ want to know is where you got this lovely vehicle we're riding in."

Bellamy shrugged lightly.

"I convinced Oriana to lend it to me."

"Oh? Did you make use of your mega-watt smile?"

Bellamy's brow wrinkled in confusion. "My what?"

Clarke ducked her head and grinned, considered once again how little personal vanity Bellamy really had and said, "Never mind. How did you convince her?"

"I just said I really wanted to have a look at the asshole's sword collection — uh, I may not have used those _exact_ words — and it was the least she could do considering everything we're doing for them. She tried to tell me I'd get lost, but then I showed her my trusty compass. She finally threw up her hands and said I was on my own. But she gave me the car."

"So... she never knew you were actually looking for me?"

He shook his head. "They all believed that idiotic story Gabriel coerced Abby into giving out. About the mountain retreat."

Clarke said quietly. "Everyone but you."

When he nodded, she couldn't help asking, "Why didn't you believe it, too?"

He was silent for a moment, then he finally shrugged, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and giving her his crooked smile.

"I just knew it had to be a lie."

"But why..." she began

Bellamy interrupted, abruptly changing the subject. "Can you grab the radio out of the glove box, Clarke? I think we're finally close enough to the city to transmit, and we need to give Oriana a heads up. We can't just show up at the front door with her co-leader trussed up tight and expect a warm welcome."

Clarke's smile was sardonic as she handed him the radio. "No, I suppose not. What did you have in mind?"

"Secret meeting."

"And how do you know she'll even believe us, Bellamy? That she'll take our word for what happened out there? That she won't twist it all around, make it somehow our fault?"

Bellamy shrugged. "I don't. Not really. And Oriana isn't exactly the friendliest leader I've ever known, or the easiest to read. But we do have that flash drive, and I gotta agree with you that if Gabriel had it in his safe, there must be some pretty damning evidence on it."

He reached over to grab her hand.

"Besides," he said, "in the end we have to trust someone. And since I know you're not suggesting we throw in with Gabriel, I don't see where we have a lot of choices here."

Clarke sighed, finally nodding. "Oriana it is, then."

He gave her a reassuring smile then picked up the radio to transmit. When a surprised Oriana responded, the first thing she asked was if he was lost.

Bellamy chuckled. "Nope. Not lost. But... something's come up. I need you to meet us in the vehicle bay with a couple of your most trusted personal guards. And bring your tablet."

" _Us?"_

"Clarke's with me. And, Oriana, when I say _trusted guards_ , I mean those you'd trust with your life."

There was a short pause while only light static came over the radio, and for a few moments Clarke was worried she wasn't going to respond. Or, eventually, believe them.

But then Oriana's crisp authoritative voice came back on the line.

"Copy that," she said.

XXXXXXXXXX

Oriana was waiting when they arrived in the vehicle bay, so Bellamy stepped out of the car while Clarke remained in the passenger seat with the window open.

"All right, Bellamy, what's so important that it called for a clandestine meeting in a part of this building that I rarely have need to visit?" Oriana said in her usual direct - and slightly unpleasant - manner.

"I'm afraid I've got some unwelcome news," he said.

Oriana narrowed her eyes and nodded towards the car.

"And does it have to do with why Clarke is here with you instead of still enjoying our spa retreat in the mountains?"

"I was never at your spa in the mountains," Clarke broke in, her words clipped.

Oriana frowned. "I don't understand. I spoke to the doctor myself when I couldn't find you at the end of the gala. She said you'd already gone home. That you were planning to leave for the mountains early the next morning..."

"She was coerced into saying that," Bellamy interrupted quickly. "Clarke wasn't enjoying anything. Gabriel Cadogan drugged her and abducted her from the party. She's been in his house for the past three days."

Clarke watched Oriana's eyes widen in disbelief.

"That's... absurd! I know Gabriel can be quite disgusting sometimes, but he would never..."

She ground to a sudden halt as her astute mind started to put the puzzle pieces together. "So that's the real reason you borrowed my car, Bellamy. To look for Clarke. And it seems you found her."

She paused, as the truth of it all began to sink in, then her eyes swung to Clarke, still seated in the car.

"This is obviously quite appalling, Clarke," she said, her thin lips pinched together. "Did Gabriel... hurt you?"

"Not like you're thinking," Clarke shook her head.

Oriana frowned. "Still, I'll have to speak with Gabriel myself. We can't have him doing that sort of thing."

"No time like the present," Clarke said. "He's tied up in the back of this vehicle. You can read him the riot act."

"What! Are you two out of your minds! Gabriel Cadogan is a member of the Triumvirate, a leader of this city. I know his behavior was dreadful, but you can't treat him like that. I don't know what it was like where you came from, but we have laws here. And right now, you're finding yourselves on the wrong side of them!"

She motioned to one of her guards. "Daniel, check the car and if Gabriel's in there, untie him at once..."

"You might want to rethink that, Oriana," Bellamy said calmly.

"And why would I do that?" she said, swinging around to face him directly. And although Clarke knew she'd intended the question to be rhetorical, something in Oriana's eyes said she wasn't absolutely sure Bellamy might not have an answer.

"Because what he did to Clarke isn't the reason we brought him here, to you, tied up so he can't get away."

"So what was the reason?"

"Did you bring the tablet?" Clarke asked, and when Oriana nodded, retrieving it from one of her men, she held out the flash drive.

"I think you should take a look at this. It seems you have some traitors in your city."

Clarke saw the disbelief in her eyes, especially when one of the guards cautioned that the drive might contain a virus. She also saw the moment that Oriana made up her mind.

"Bring Gabriel out of the car, but don't untie him."

The guard followed her directions, and when Gabriel emerged and saw Oriana, Clarke could see the tentative relief in his eyes.

Until Oriana grabbed the hardware from Clarke and held it up for his inspection.

"What am I going to find on here, Gabriel?" she asked quietly.

The sudden panic in his eyes was all that she needed to convince her, and Oriana had the guards secure him in their own vehicle before she quickly plugged the drive into her tablet.

After that, it was only a matter of waiting for the shrewd politician to find the right folders. As she opened one file after another, her expression grew more and more distressed.

"Have you looked at this?" she asked abruptly after several minutes of silence.

When they both shook their heads, her lips twisted in a sardonic smile. "Well, you might be interested in the addendum Gabriel's written to his...ah, manifesto, in which he talks about the prophecy child. It seems he particularly had no use for _you_ , Bellamy, once the child was born, although it's likely Clarke would have fared better. Under the right circumstances, of course."

Clarke was incensed. "That son of a bitch was planning to kill Bellamy?"

"Try not to take it personally, Clarke," Oriana said. "There's quite a long section about the difficulties of getting rid of former leaders. My name comes up several times." She paused. "He has some rather ingenious ideas along those lines. Who knows? We may be able to make use of them."

After a while, Oriana closed the tablet and handed it to one of her guards, before turning back to Bellamy and Clarke.

"You did the right thing bringing this information to me. I shudder to think what would have happened in this city if even half the plans Gabriel made had been implemented."

She sighed heavily.

"For now, I'm inclined to let you both leave now and overlook that you tied up and abducted a member of the Triumvirate. Yes, yes, I know why you did it, but I could still decide to bring charges. And I will if I hear you've been telling this story around the city. We need time to contain the situation, make sure everyone is rounded up before we make it public." She shook her head resignedly. "Which we'll have to do, of course. Gabriel will eventually have to pay for his treachery."

"And how long will that take?" Clarke asked, wondering if there was ever going to be a time in her life when she wasn't waiting constantly for the other shoe to drop.

"Not long for the initial charges to be brought. A matter of weeks, I'd think. Meanwhile, don't let me hear that you've mentioned any of this to a single soul."

"Not gonna happen," Bellamy shook his head.

Despite Oriana's stern warning, and implied threats, Clarke felt a certain sense of relief.

Ever since she'd learned what Gabriel was planning, there'd been this sense of urgency, of fear. That this city where they'd all finally found some peace was about to erupt into chaos, and bitter experience had made her certain about just who would have been the eventual losers.

So she was more than happy to butt out, to let others shoulder the burden and deal with the problem.

"Let's go, Bellamy," she said, suddenly weary, opening the door and stepping out of the car.

Forgetting all about her cut feet, and her scraped legs, and her twisted ankle. When she inevitably stumbled, Oriana automatically put out a hand to steady her, glancing down to see what the problem was.

"What's happened to your feet, Clarke?"

"Her feet?" Bellamy rounded the front of the vehicle, nearly knocking over Oriana in his haste to reach Clarke. "What's wrong with your..."

He sucked in his breath as they looked down together, and Clarke would swear that she was just as shocked as he was.

Her feet were an absolute mess, littered with scrapes and cuts, although the blood had mostly dried. Large purple bruises covered both feet, climbing up her legs only to disappear under the thin material of her drawstring pants.

And then there was her twisted right ankle, which by now had swollen to twice its normal size.

Although she would have sworn only a moment earlier that she felt no pain, she'd no sooner had the leisure to recall her injuries than they began to hurt like hell, and a small moan escaped her.

Without another word, Bellamy bent quickly, looping one arm around Clarke's waist and another under knees, hefting her with ease.

"What are you doing, Bellamy?"

"What does it look like?" he said, his voice gruff. "You can't possibly walk on those feet so I'm taking you to the clinic."

They were out the door and into the sunshine before she could say another word, Oriana merely nodding at them as they left.

"Do you really need to carry me, Bellamy?" Clarke asked, taking in the curious stares of passersby as Bellamy rounded the corner of the Government Building and began to cross the plaza toward the clinic.

"I really do," he said. "I had to go out to the middle of nowhere to find you, Clarke. Is there some reason you think I'm going to stop before I get you to a safe place?"

Clarke's heart tripped.

"Okay," she said softly.

They'd reached the door to the clinic by then, but instead of entering Bellamy stopped to look down at her.

"Clarke... I hope..." He paused, began again, his quiet voice earnest. "Look, please don't be angry with Abby for what she did. She was worried sick about you."

But Clarke was already shaking her head.

"I'm not angry, Bellamy. I know exactly what it's like to want to save the two people that you... love the most," her voice dipped and she nearly tripped over the word. "Only to find out that you can't. That you have to choose. One or the other. And then you try to decide which one is less vulnerable."

Bellamy nodded. "I've been there, too, you know," he said quietly.

And in that moment, as she lay in his arms in the late afternoon sunlight, her head tucked snugly under his chin, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, Clarke felt more in tune with Bellamy than she had in weeks.

Maybe, she thought, there was still a way to make things right between them.


	12. Chapter 12

The moment Bellamy carried Clarke through the clinic door, Abby was running towards them, her face a curious mixture of shame and relief.

"Clarke! Thank god he found you. But you're hurt!"

"I'm not badly hurt, Mom. My feet just got a little banged up."

"Put her down here, Bellamy," Abby said, hastily guiding him to one of the four available beds as she very obviously tried to pull herself together.

"I knew I should have told Bellamy right away," she muttered, moving frantically around the room to gather supplies, and then back to Clarke's bedside to begin a more in-depth examination.

"Oh, god, look at your poor feet. How did you do this?"

"I just took a little tumble. Please don't worry, it's nothing serious. Everything will heal."

But Abby couldn't seem to stanch the flow of tears that now came unbidden as she began to clean Clarke's cuts and abrasions, and to wrap her painfully swollen ankle.

"Why don't I get Madi?" Bellamy said a moment later, moving toward the door. "I'm sure she'd like to see that you're safe."

Clarke glanced up, torn between her reluctance to have him leave and her eagerness to see her daughter. As well as understanding that Bellamy had never been one to stand around, that he needed to be doing something.

"Good idea," she said, and he nodded and left with a quiet smile that told her he'd be back.

As soon as he was out the door Clarke grasped Abby's arm, forcing her mother to pause in her tasks.

"Please don't blame yourself. Gabriel was pretty clear about threatening Marcus. I've been in your position, don't forget."

"Yes, but... you chose your _child_..."

Clarke could hear the anguish in her voice.

"Who was twelve! I'm an adult and you know damn well I can take care of myself!"

"I hoped with everything in me that you could. But with Marcus... I just couldn't be sure where the threat might be coming from. He spends so much time with the Eligians. He's been doing his best as our liaison, but the fight's gone out of him. And," she sighed, "I know that's mostly my fault."

Her mother began to weep again, quietly this time, and Clarke squeezed her hand, offering what comfort she could. After a few moments the tears began to dry up, and Abby returned to quickly and deftly wrapping up Clarke's swollen ankle.

"You've had a lot to forgive me for," Abby said bitterly as she put away her supplies. "More than any mother should have a right to expect."

"And I've done plenty of things that other people have had to forgive me for, too, Mom. So let's not play the blame game. Let's just be happy it all turned out okay."

Abby slumped into the chair at Clarke's bedside, her expression doleful.

"That's only because of Bellamy."

Her lips twisted in a small rueful smile. "It's funny. I'd been mostly worried about Madi. About that thing in her head telling her I was lying." She shrugged. "But maybe she just believed me because I'm your mother, and she couldn't imagine why I'd ever lie about something like that. But Bellamy never accepted it. He kept saying the two of you had plans and that you wouldn't have just left without telling him."

Clarke smiled quietly, buoyed by his faith in her. "He didn't believe you even at first?"

"Not really. The first day he just looked... confused. But when you didn't show up for two more days, he just wouldn't let it go." She shook her head. "I don't know, maybe on some level I was counting on his skepticism. Hoping he'd figure it out without my telling him and find a way to help you."

Abby sighed. "But then finally, I just couldn't stand it. I had to tell him about Gabriel. About his threats. And that's when I heard for the first time that Gabriel had some kind of personal obsession with you."

She paused, and Clarke could see the sudden fear in Abby's eyes as she squared her shoulders and choked out her question.

"Gabriel didn't force himself on you, did he? Because if I played any part in something like that happening to you, I'm never going to be able to forgive myself."

Clarke sat up quickly, gingerly swinging her damaged legs over the side of the bed and grasping Abby's arms. "No, Mom, he didn't," she said earnestly. "I promise you. There was nothing like that at all."

Her mother just nodded, but Clarke could see her obvious relief.

"So it really was some kind of political move, then? He needed to get you alone to persuade you to support him over the other two? That's what he told me, but I thought it sounded a little strange."

Clarke hesitated, amazed at how very close to the truth Gabriel's lies to her mother had actually been. But she knew she couldn't explain further. Oriana had been frighteningly clear about them keeping their mouths shut.

"Something like that. But Gabriel's the kind of guy who doesn't ask for things he wants, or thinks he needs. He just takes them."

Abby shook her head, indignant now. Greatly relieved that Clarke hadn't been in any way assaulted, but still having no real idea of how much danger she'd actually been in.

"But he shouldn't have just taken off with you like that."

"No," Clarke agreed, wrapping her mother in a fierce hug, "he shouldn't have."

Anything more that mother and daughter might have felt the need to say to one another was cut short when Madi suddenly came barreling into the room, throwing herself at Clarke before pulling back and perching on the edge of the cot.

"Clarke, I'm so glad you're okay. Is it really true? Gabriel took you to his house against your will?"

Clarke nodded. "It is. He forced Mom to tell that story about me going to their mountain retreat." She smiled, hoping to make light of the situation, to reassure Madi. "I'm going to demand a trip there for some rest and relaxation just as soon as I can actually walk again."

She should have known the diversionary tactic would be unsuccessful.

"Gabriel forced Abby?" Madi turned quickly, carefully scrutinizing Abby. "He threatened Marcus, didn't he? That's how he got you to lie."

Abby began to sputter an apology, but Clarke just shook her head.

"I really need to remember how perceptive you are about people, Madi. You've always been that way, but now that you've got the Commanders in your head... " She smiled, leaving the thought unfinished.

Madi shrugged. "It's not that they can tell me about things or people they don't know, Clarke. It's just that sometimes they help me understand people better. How they feel about other people. Like Abby and Marcus. Or you and Bellamy."

Clarke felt her face heat and quickly changed the subject.

"Madi, you know you can't talk about any of this," she cautioned.

But Madi was already nodding. "Bellamy explained he could only tell me part of the story. And I couldn't even talk about that part."

"Good. And that means not to anyone. Not even Indra or Gaia."

"I understand. Believe me, I've learned my lesson about not giving away secrets. Anyway, they just think you went away for a couple of days, had an accident, and somehow Bellamy saved you. Just like everyone else does."

 _What_!

"What made everyone think that?"

Madi smiled. "Clarke, everyone saw Bellamy carrying you across the plaza earlier. It was very romantic," she added, fluttering her eyes at Clarke teasingly.

Clarke groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I suppose that story is safer than the truth."

"And... are you really safe now?" Madi asked anxiously, the teasing tone gone, and Clarke added one more entry to Gabriel Cadogan's list of transgressions: making Madi worry.

"I promise I am," she said, pulling the girl down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. "And as soon as my feet and ankle heal, I'm going to be as good as new."

"Glad to hear it," said a new voice, and there was Bellamy in the doorway, filling it with his presence just like he always did. As strong and comforting and reassuring as anyone she'd ever known. Clarke felt so connected to Bellamy that just looking at him somehow made her feel safe.

"Feel better now that you've seen Clarke, Madi?" he asked, but while he was speaking to Madi, his eyes never left Clarke's face.

Abby smiled and said hastily. "Let's give them a couple of minutes, Madi."

Madi nodded, wrapping Clarke in a quick hug to whisper, "I'll be back later," and then she and Abby were gone.

And there were only the two of them.

Bellamy left the doorway, crossing the room slowly, his face serious. Like it was important to see for himself that she really was all right.

"I was so fucking worried about you, Clarke," he said, dropping into the bedside chair that Abby had just vacated. "When I couldn't find you. I just... I couldn't imagine you'd have left without telling me."

"I'm sorry you were worried," she said, knowing it for the lie it was. Because now that it was all over she was selfishly thrilled to realize that he cared that much. And as for coming after her...

He quirked a brow. "Not exactly your fault."

"I couldn't believe it when I heard your voice. And knew that you'd come to rescue me."

He shrugged. "You'd already gotten yourself free and found the flash drive and the gun. You hardly even needed me."

"Come on, Bellamy, we both know I never would have been able to get away from that place if you hadn't come."

The lopsided smile appeared and he shrugged again. "We're a team, Clarke."

Clarke's lips turned up in a teasing smile. "But don't you ever get tired of it? Of saving me?"

This was an old joke between them, and she waited, still smiling, for his expected snappy comeback.

But it never came.

Instead he shook his head, his face suddenly serious. "No," he said,"I don't get tired of it. And... I'm pretty sure I never will."

And before she could even react to that, could wonder what it might mean, he'd leaned toward her just enough to bend down and kiss her.

It was a kiss of such surpassing tenderness that Clarke wanted to weep.

She would have deepened it if she could have, because it seemed like forever since they'd been together like that. But he pulled back, intent, she was sure, on giving her space. Not that she needed it, or wanted it. Not from him.

"You need some rest," he said, his voice gruff, his smile soft. "I'll see you tomorrow."

And before she knew it he'd risen and walked quickly out the door.

Clarke lay there, stunned and emotional.

He'd never done that before, just... kissed her out of the blue. And this had been nothing like the kind of passionate kiss that electrified her when they made love, but something else altogether. Something that opened her up and laid her bare, unable to hide from her feelings any longer.

Or to deny to herself that she loved him.

 _Loved_ him.

That she didn't just care for him, although that was certainly part of it. Bellamy's well-being was inextricably linked with her own happiness. That had come home to her with a vengeance back on Earth when she'd nearly gotten him killed.

And he wasn't just her best friend, although that was part if it, too. He was the one person she wanted to share things with - good or bad - when life swept her up or down. His memory alone had kept her sane and buoyed her spirits for more than six years.

And trust. That was there, too. Always had been, instinctively, right from the drop ship. Except for that one terrible time that she hadn't understood, and had lost her trust, and oh, how she regretted that. Of all her regrets - and Clarke had many for such a short life - that one easily topped the list.

But this feeling she had for Bellamy was more. More than all those things. More, even, than the sum of them. And she'd be damned if he was going to remain ignorant of how she felt, just because she was scared.

By then, Clarke was in such a state she was sure she wouldn't be able to sleep. But Abby had given her something for the pain, and after a while it began to kick in.

Her eyes drooped.

 _I_ _need_ _to_ _tell_ _him_ , she thought, just before she drifted off.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was a frustration to Clarke that although her cuts healed quickly, the bruising on her feet was so severe that the pain lingered far longer than she'd hoped. And then there was her ankle, which Abby had pronounced "a very bad sprain."

So as desperately as she wanted to be on her feet, she knew she'd have to wait awhile longer.

Madi remained with Indra and Gaia while Clarke was at the clinic. And despite her protests, Abby insisted on staying with her during the nights. She reminded Clarke that not only was she almost completely immobile, she was also pregnant. As it turned out, Clarke was more than happy for Abby's help with her frequent nocturnal bathroom visits.

So she was healing, and well-cared for.

And had no idea what the hell to do with herself.

Clarke wasn't used to being so inactive, so without purpose. So utterly unproductive. She'd been accustomed to helping out wherever her people might need her, and was filled with a vague sense of guilt that for a while a least someone else would have to take on those chores.

She had visitors, of course. At first it was just Madi and Bellamy, who both came every day, often more than once. Not that either ever stayed long. Clarke had insisted that Madi resume her studies now that they were more less settled and not in constant danger. And Bellamy was still busy with his regular duties as head of their own security.

But after a few days, other visitors began to trickle in.

Raven came first, poking her head around the doorway, a giant smirk on her face.

"You just can't seem to stay out of trouble, can you?"

"Raven!" Clarke smiled, surprised at how happy she was to see her.

"And then," Raven added teasingly, sauntering across the room to take the bedside chair, "you have to go all dramatic and swoony with Bellamy carrying you across the square to the clinic."

Clarke felt her face heating even as she tried her best to make light of it.

"He was just helping me," she explained, striving hard for casual. "I'd had a bad fall."

"Right. And I don't suppose you'd like to elaborate on the circumstances of this bad fall? Or how it was that Bellamy just happened to be there?"

"Well, uh..." This was the first time she'd had to deal with someone who knew nothing about her abduction, and Clarke damned herself for being so unprepared. Especially for the always-direct Raven.

"Yeah, yeah, never mind," Raven laughed. "I'll pry it out of you eventually."

"Eventually, you won't have to pry it out of me. Eventually, I'll be able to tell you."

That seemed to give Raven pause. Clarke watched her forehead wrinkle as she tried to puzzle it out.

"I sense a story here," she said eventually. "Maybe something a little more serious than I expected. I just figured you'd found some romantic way to finally get through to Bellamy."

Clarke snorted and rolled her eyes.

"So what's the news in the city?" she said, doing her best to change the subject

Raven laughed, "You mean besides the prophecy kid's mom and dad strolling dramatically across the square? Well, let's see. One of the Triumvirate didn't show for their monthly meeting, and all the Eligians are buzzing about it like it's a big deal. I mean, can't one of them just be sick or something?"

"Or something," Clarke nodded, smiling weakly, wondering where to direct the conversation next.

"So... how's the handsome pilot?" she asked finally, and Raven's face lit up. And was then more than happy to spend the rest of the visit talking about her own love life.

A few days later, John Murphy arrived with Emori in tow. Clarke wasn't sure which of them she was more surprised to see.

"So, um, you're okay, then? No permanent damage?"

When Emori accompanied her questions with a bright smile, Clarke could hardly believe this was the same bitter girl she'd met all those years ago on Becca's island.

"So my mom tells me. It's hard not being able to move around but at least Madi brought my art supplies," she said, pointing to the paper and charcoal scattered about her.

"Yeah, you know I saw that picture you drew of us, chained to the rocket in the lab," Murphy interjected suddenly. "Back in Shallow Valley. I took it. Still have it."

Clarke felt her heart drop to her stomach. That sketch didn't exactly commemorate her finest hour.

"Murphy..."

He shook his head. "Don't worry, Clarke, I get all the cool irony. You thought you were saving Emori when you injected that stuff into your own arm, but it turned out later that you saved yourself." He shrugged. "We're just a couple of cockroaches, you and me. Hard to kill."

"John!"

"Nah, it's okay, Emori. Clarke understands what I mean, don't you, Clarke?"

When she nodded, he said, "But I bet you can't tell us whatever the hell it was Bellamy saved you from this time, am I right?"

Clarke just stared at him, momentarily at a loss, and he gave her a knowing grin.

"I figured. But... I really am glad you're okay."

They left soon after. Curiously, Clarke felt better about Murphy than she had in years.

But perhaps the visit that surprised her the most was when Indra dropped by toward the end of her second week at the clinic. She took the opportunity to thank the woman for taking care of Madi.

Indra's face broke into one of her rare smiles. "Madi would say she doesn't need looking after."

Clarke cocked a brow at her visitor. "But we both know differently, don't we? Even if she is the Commander."

Indra nodded. "Yes, she can still use some guidance for at least a few more years. I know she was not brought up to be the Commander, Clarke, but... she was brought up well. You've been a good mother to Madi."

Clarke couldn't help flushing at the unexpected compliment.

"There's so much she still doesn't know, Indra. So much I couldn't teach her."

"She will learn what she needs."

Then Indra lingered only long enough to tell Clarke she was glad to hear her body was healing well. "You'll need all your strength to raise this child you're having," she said, adding after a moment, "and all of Bellamy's strength, too. But you are both such strong people."

After Indra left, Clarke couldn't help wondering if she and Bellamy really would be strong enough to raise this child when their own lives were already so precarious. Would they really be able to draw on each others' strength when everything that lay between them was so... uncertain?

In the back of her mind was the niggling worry that she'd never figure out a way to knock down that last wall that lay between them. That even if she tried to tell Bellamy how she felt about him, he would still somehow think she was just making the best of it. That she was tied to him by the child, and the city, and the circumstances. But not by choice.

XXXXXXXXXX

While Bellamy was a frequent and faithful visitor, never again had there been any sort of intimate exchange between them, either in word or deed. It was almost like his relief at finding her essentially unharmed had been so profound that on that one occasion he had allowed it to spill over into an uncontrollable emotional reaction.

Never again to be repeated.

Nor had there there any opportunity to ask if he knew what was happening with the investigation into Gabriel Cadogan's treachery.

But then a few days after Indra's visit reminded her of all the uncertainties that lay ahead, something happened that gave Clarke new hope.

It was after one of Bellamy's visit - his second of the day - that the idea came to her. An idea that, if it worked out, would give them back control over their lives, and with it the freedom to live however, and wherever, they chose.

And to love whoever they chose.

Then he'd have to believe her.


	13. Chapter 13

While Clarke may have suspected all along that the Eligians were keeping Bellamy informed about the Gabriel Cadogan investigation, it wasn't until he came to her with his request that she was certain of it.

"Oriana's wondering how much you can remember about the layout of Gabriel's house," he said quietly, his voice too low to be overheard by anyone else who might be hanging around the clinic. "Seems like no one in the current government has ever actually been there. Of course," he added with a smirk, "she thinks you were probably too frightened to have noticed anything useful, but I told her you might be able recall one or two things."

Clarke laughed. "So happy to hear you defended my ability to be a rational human being instead of a blithering idiot."

Which was true. She was heartened by his faith in her. But she also acknowledged to herself that Oriana hadn't really been that far off the mark. Clarke had been afraid every moment she'd been in that house, and only sheer willpower had kept her from dissolving into the quivering mess the woman had expected.

That, and activity.

Fortunately for the Eligian leader, Clarke's main attempt to divert herself from panic coincided exactly with what was now needed.

She had to smile at the irony.

"You can tell Oriana that not only do I remember the layout, but I can draw her a pretty detailed map from the one that's in my head."

Bellamy huffed out a quiet laugh. "Why am I not surprised?"

Clarke shrugged. "I needed a distraction and I like making maps." She paused, curious. "Do you know what she wants it for?"

He hesitated, then his voice dropped still lower.

"I can't be sure, but I think maybe they're getting to the end of of their investigation..."

"It's about damn time!" she hissed.

"Maybe, but I can't fault them for being careful, Clarke. Gabriel is from a powerful family, and popular enough to have gotten himself elected. So they need to make sure they get it right."

"I know that. It's just been hard having to keep quiet about all this. And then... sometimes I worry about him getting away with it after all, and then where would that put us? I mean, what do we know about the justice system in this city, anyway?"

Clarke could hear the anxiety in her own voice, and understood it was probably another byproduct of having little to do. And consequently too much time to think of everything that could go wrong. Especially in the middle of the night when it was quiet and still and she had nothing to distract her from her worry about the uncertain fate of the child growing inside her.

But Bellamy was already shaking his head.

"Oriana told me that won't happen. She's kept me up to date a little on what's been going on..."

"Why haven't you told me?"

"Because you're in here," he reminded her, his voice dropping to a terse whisper. "And usually Abby's here, or Madi. Or Jackson. And they can't know anything about this."

Clarke sighed. "Right. Okay. What about David? Have you spoken with him?"

Bellamy snorted. "You should have heard him, Clarke, ranting about how Gabriel's a disgrace to his family. A faithless traitor to the principles set down by the first Eligians. He was practically frothing at the mouth."

"That's what Grace called Gabriel, too. A disgrace to his family."

Clarke had a sudden unhappy thought.

"If they're going to be using this map I'm making to search his house..."

Bellamy nodded. "That's my guess. Oriana told me they've finally arrested everyone in Gabriel's files and now they're looking for more hard evidence."

"Then you need to make sure they know Grace helped us. I don't want them arresting her after she saved our asses."

"I've already told them about Grace, but I'll make sure to mention it again. I know we owe her."

"The whole city owes her, Bellamy."

Madi arrived then, straight from her lessons, so Clarke had only time enough to mutter, "Tell Oriana I'll have it done by noon tomorrow."

XXXXXXXXXX

By the time she set out to make the map, Clarke had been at the clinic for nearly three weeks. Her bruises had either faded to a sickly yellow or disappeared altogether, and it was only the sprained ankle that had kept her from going home.

She'd already been hobbling around with the aid of a crutch for a few days, and Abby had told her that if she promised not to overtax her foot she could leave the clinic in a day or two.

"You really want to make sure it heals properly, Clarke," Abby reminded her, "because you'll be carrying extra weight on it soon enough."

But knowing she was so close to finally getting out of there made Clarke more fidgety, not less, and she was glad to have a project to absorb her restless energy. She worked on the map late into the evening, until her eyes finally drooped with fatigue. Then she was back at it early the next morning.

Gabriel Cadogan's home was large and sprawling, included at least a couple of dozen rooms over two floors, and Clarke wanted to get it right. She didn't want the investigators to miss anything because she'd been too hasty to be accurate. At the last minute, just before Bellamy was due, she suddenly remembered a small closet nearly hidden beneath the narrow back staircase and quickly added it to the schematic.

As she put the finishing touches on her map, Clarke couldn't help thinking how lucky it was for Oriana's investigators that she was able to provide this level of detail. In fact, it suddenly occurred to her that despite how terrifying the experience had been for her, it was still providential that it had happened at all. Because if Gabriel hadn't abducted her, she'd never have heard about his plans, or found that file.

No one would have.

Clarke's fingers stopped sketching as the kernel of an idea suddenly took root and began to work its way through her brain.

If Gabriel hadn't wanted her - or more accurately, _if he hadn't wanted control of the prophecy child_ \- none of it would have happened and no one would have been the wiser. In fact...

 _... no one would know a damned thing._

Clarke gasped softly as the full implication struck her.

What if her discovery of Gabriel's traitorous plot wasn't just luck, or coincidence, or irony? What if it was something else altogether?

She worked quickly to finish the map, and by the time Bellamy arrived Clarke was nearly bursting with the need to discuss her idea with him. But there were people around and he was in a hurry to get the map to Oriana.

"Can it wait, whatever it is?" he asked quietly. "She's been fretting about the map all morning so I think today might be the day."

"All right," Clarke nodded, swallowing her frustration. "But tell Oriana that after everything goes down and Gabriel's conspiracy becomes public, we need to speak to both her and David. Urgently. No putting us off."

Bellamy looked puzzled but nodded.

"What's going on inside your head, Clarke?"

"Something that I hope is going to give us our lives back."

XXXXXXXXXX

Clarke left the clinic the following day, and only three days later the city of Eligius was rocked to its core by the news that one of its elected officials - one of the three people whom the Eligians had counted on to always have their best interests at heart - was, in fact, a traitor who'd been conspiring to set himself up as some sort of petty dictator. And that he had a whole lot of important co-conspirators.

At first, many in the city simply refused to believe it, but they were forced to change their minds when the raft of incriminating documents came to light. And after one or two of the conspirators decided to sing like the birdies it was pretty much all over.

"That's what you and Bellamy couldn't tell me, wasn't it?" Madi asked the first morning the news broke.

"Yes. And since our names - Bellamy's and mine - haven't been mentioned, you still need to keep our part in the whole thing to yourself."

Madi nodded thoughtfully. "But... what if you hadn't found out about it, Clarke? If Gabriel hadn't taken you?"

Clarke smiled at the girl, marveling at her ability to see right to the heart of the matter. "You know, it took me weeks to realize the importance of that question, Madi. And here you come up with it first thing."

"You had other things on your mind," Madi said casually, but when Clarke squinted at her she was sure she saw the hint of a smirk.

Madi had barely left for Indra's when Raven showed up at her door.

"Okay, how much did you and Bellamy have to do with all this?" she demanded point-blank. "And don't try to tell me you weren't involved."

"I won't," Clarke said with a sigh, knowing it was useless to even try putting off the tenacious Raven. "I'll tell you the whole thing as long as you promise to keep it to yourself for a while."

She poured them both cups of sweet Eligian tea and proceeded to spill the entire story. From her abduction by Gabriel, to her discovery of the files, Bellamy's rescue, and their frantic getaway. By the time she got to their encounter with Oriana in the vehicle bay Raven was shaking her head.

"Shit! I thought I was just teasing you when I asked about Bellamy saving you, but that's just what he did."

Clarke nodded, agreeing. "He came through, just like always."

She wasn't sure what it was about that statement that provoked Raven's sudden soft grin. She only knew that she'd somehow given herself away.

"So why isn't he here with you, Clarke?" Raven asked quietly. "After everything the two of you have been through, and how you obviously feel about each other. Why are you still not together?"

Clarke sighed. "I don't know, Raven. I guess... maybe there's just been too much going on. But I think I've figured out a way to use Gabriel's conspiracy to my own advantage and finally get through to Bellamy."

"How so?"

"By convincing the other two leaders to let us be masters of our own fates."

Raven frowned. "And that's somehow gonna make things right between you and Bellamy?"

"I hope so," she said. "Because I seem to be out of ideas."

XXXXXXXXXX

The legal proceedings were over, Gabriel had been sent to parts unknown for imprisonment, and Clarke's ankle was mostly healed by the time Bellamy managed to arrange her requested interview with what was now only two-thirds of a Triumvirate.

"It's about time," she complained when he came to give her the news. "It feels like they've been blowing us off."

In some ways, it felt like Bellamy had been blowing her off lately, too. Not that she didn't see him frequently, or that he wasn't concerned about her health or the pregnancy. But now that she was no longer banged up and immobile, he seemed to be pulling back all over again, once again retreating behind that last wall.

When she'd casually suggested the possibility of rescheduling their aborted picnic Bellamy said he thought it was too far for her to walk on her still-tender ankle. And there'd been no more mention of wanting to finally have that talk.

Clarke was frustrated, and more and more it felt like her only hope lay in getting them out from under the Eligians' thumb. So they'd no longer be "the prophecy mom and dad," tied together inexorably but artificially by the uncertain but heroic future of their unborn child.

Instead, they could just be Clarke and Bellamy, together by choice.

She'd considered long and hard, but in the end had finally decided not to tell Bellamy beforehand what she intended to say to Oriana and David. Her hope was that he'd be convinced along with the others, and immediately understand what it meant for the two of them.

But at the moment Bellamy was smiling at her impatience. "I can't wait to hear what this is all about. I can, uh, come by for you at noon tomorrow, if you want?"

Clarke nodded. "Thanks. I'd like that."

The room she and Bellamy were shown into the following day was much smaller and less formal than the one that had been used on their previous visits. Clarke thought Oriana looked worn, like she'd aged a decade since they'd met in the vehicle bay a little over a month earlier. As for David, he seemed more distracted than ever.

As usual, Oriana took the lead.

"We're happy to see you looking so well, Clarke. No lingering injuries?" she asked quickly, barely waiting for Clarke to shake her head before hurrying on.

"Bellamy said you wanted to see us but he wouldn't say what it was about."

"That's because he doesn't know."

"Oh? But it concerns you both?"

"It does," she said, glancing at Bellamy out of the corner of her eye. But he had no visible reaction, and was merely waiting, like the others, for her to explain.

"Does it have anything to do with what happened at Gabriel's house? Are you looking for some kind of... compensation for the abduction? Or for bringing his conspiracy to our attention? I'm sure we could at least offer you better quarters. Your own house, even."

"Of course I'd be happy to have more living space, but that's not why I'm here."

Clarke paused, unsure how best to proceed. But then she shrugged, turning toward David and simply plunging ahead.

"After our child - the, uh, the prophecy child - is born, what did you have in mind for him? Or her?"

David blinked, seeming confused by her question.

"I'm not sure what you're asking."

"I mean... did you expect our child to stay here in Eligius? Grow up in the city?"

"Well, of course! That's the prophecy. That this child is going to save us all, we just don't know when. So we'll have to wait and see when he... she... assumes the mantle of the hero. And naturally that would have to be here in the city."

Clarke nodded. "And what if I, or Bellamy, wanted to leave the city? And take our child with us?"

Bellamy spoke up for the first time, his expression wary.

"Are you saying you want to leave, Clarke?"

"No, Bellamy," she said, turning to him. "I'm saying I want to be able to direct this child's life. _And_ my own. Isn't that something you'd want, too? To have some say in your life?"

But before Bellamy could respond David was already sputtering. "That simply couldn't be allowed! The child must of _course_ remain here..."

"Look, Clarke," Oriana jumped in, trying to wrestle away the reins of the conversation, "I thought you understood. The prophecy, and the child who will come to fulfill it, is not some fantasy to the people of this city. It's a reality. And since we discovered you and Bellamy had the right DNA, it's a reality that's at least partly come to pass. This child you're going to have gives our people hope for their future."

"I don't think the prophecy is a fantasy, Oriana. Not at all. I think it's very, very real. But what I think you haven't realized is that the prophecy has _completely_ come to pass."

Oriana was taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that this child has _already_ saved the city. Saved it from a bloody coup, maybe even a civil war. But certainly something very grim where I know lot of people would have died. But my unborn child prevented all that."

When no one said anything, she hurried on.

"Don't you see? Gabriel didn't abduct me because he wanted to sleep with me. He told me right out that he took me because of the _child._ He wanted to use it, show he had control over it, to make sure your people would accept him as their anointed leader. And from that, everything else followed."

"But the coup..." Oriana interrupted.

"He'd been planning it for years, but he was finally about to make his move. So from his point of view controlling the child was just a way of ensuring his success. The irony is that instead it led to his downfall."

Clarke stopped to take a quick breath, and then her gaze shifted back and forth between David and Oriana as she hammered home her point.

"If I hadn't been pregnant with the prophecy child, he'd never have taken me. I'd never have learned about the coup, found the files, or been rescued by Bellamy. We'd never have brought you your traitor."

She eyed them carefully as she reached what she saw as the unassailable conclusion.

"And no one would have learned about any of it until it was way too late to stop it."

For several moments there was dead silence, and Clarke feared she'd somehow failed to make the situation as clear to them as it was in her own head.

But then, finally, David began to nod.

"She's right," he said, turning a thoughtful look on his co-leader. "Clarke is right about all of it."

"David, I'm not sure..." Oriana shook her head, not quite ready to admit defeat.

"No, Oriana," David insisted. "We've already had our miracle. Gabriel's plot was uncovered and dismantled just in the nick of time. The city was saved, and the people were saved, just like the prophecy said."

Clarke was astonished. She'd never expected that it would be David who was the rational one.

Oriana looked stunned. "But... what do we tell the people of the city? They're all looking forward to meeting the prophecy child. And then waiting for the miracle to happen. In the future."

Clarke shrugged.

"Tell them the prophecy came true. All of it. You don't have to go into all the details, but now that the furor has died down, you can explain how just the existence of the child triggered the discovery of the coup attempt in time to destroy it. Call another one of your meetings, Oriana. Put some spin on it. Sell it." Clarke paused. "As I recall, you're really good at that."

"Add you won't care that they know what happened to you?"

"If it comes with getting my life back, I'll live with it. And they _will_ get to see the child. Mom says it's a perfectly healthy baby and should arrive in about 30 weeks. You can have another reception or something a few months later and they can all _ooh_ and _ah_."

Clarke held her breath while the two of them eyed each other, silently considering her argument, and was filled with elation when Oriana finally nodded.

"All right," she said at last, turning back to Clarke. "We agree the prophecy has been fulfilled. But I'd like to think you'll still keep the child here for at least a few years, Clarke. Whoever it turns out to be will always be important to this city."

"I understand. And I never said I wanted to leave, Oriana. Only that I didn't want to be told what to do with my life or my child's life. I think Bellamy and I have both had enough of that. We've earned the right to make our own decisions."

She turned to him then, expecting to see a huge relieved smile, and was mystified when she found only a blank-faced stare.

She told herself it just hadn't sunk in yet.

They left a few minutes later with Oriana's promise that she'd call a meeting soon and explain to the city that they'd already had their deliverance. Clarke had every confidence that the woman would make it sound like the greatest miracle the universe had ever seen. Or ever would see.

As she and Bellamy headed back to her rooms, Clarke felt such relief that she couldn't keep the smile off her face. So they were halfway home before it began seep into her brain that Bellamy still hadn't said a word. When they reached her doorstep, she invited him in, hoping he'd want to discuss their newfound freedom.

But he barely looked at her and made a flimsy excuse to leave.

"I really need to get back to work, Clarke."

"But... don't you want to talk? Isn't it great that we have our lives back?"

"I'm glad you got what you wanted," he said after a moment, finally looking her in the eye. And she could tell he meant it. "I hope you know I'd never have tried to restrict your choices about our child or anything else. But it's great you have their assurance that the Eligians won't either."

Clarke gaped at him. "This was never about _you_ restricting me, Bellamy. It was always about us having the freedom to choose our own lives. About them not dictating to us, or to our child."

Bellamy nodded. "And now you can make that choice. I do understand. But... I haven't forgotten that you never chose to have a child with me, Clarke. You were coerced into it. So now the only thing I ask is... I'd like to be in the child's life as much as possible. If you have no objection."

Then he nodded briskly and began to turn away, leaving her nearly frozen in shock on her doorstep.

"Wait!" she said, grabbing at his arm, finally moved to both speech and action. "I don't understand why you're saying these things, Bellamy. That's not why I did this at all! I wanted us both to be free to choose."

"And so we will be," he said, gently removing her hand from his arm and giving her a small smile as he stepped away. "It really is okay, Clarke."

As she watched Bellamy head down the street with his usual confident stride, at first Clarke was just numb. When she did begin to feel, it was to find that her heart was breaking all over again.

 _But don't you understand? I did this so we could choose each other._

It was all so clear in her head. Why couldn't he see it?


	14. Chapter 14

After the meeting with what was left of the Triumvirate, Bellamy didn't exactly disappear from Clarke's life. But when she did see him it was always about business, the welfare and security of their people. He hadn't been by her rooms, and they hadn't had a conversation that was even remotely personal, in more than a week.

And Clarke didn't know what to do about it. Stymied and frustrated, with no idea how to make things right, she clung to the hope that Bellamy would somehow come to his senses and one day just show up.

So when she heard the sharp rap at her door early one afternoon, she couldn't help the hopeful lurch of her heart.

But she found a different Blake standing on her doorstep.

"Octavia!"

Clarke couldn't hide her astonishment. Octavia Blake didn't make many house calls these days. In fact, she was rarely seen outside the cramped room she'd been allotted in the same house as Indra.

"Not exactly the person you either expected or wanted to see, hey, Clarke?"

Clarke almost had to laugh. That was Octavia Blake all over, brutally direct. What was different was the tiny sliver of introspection, of self-deprecation, that seemed to be laced through the blunt tone.

"Well... it's certainly a surprise, yes."

"So can I come in?"

Clarke felt like an idiot. What was she thinking leaving Octavia standing in the street?

"Sorry! Of course you can." She opened the door wider, stepping aside so Octavia could enter.

Octavia looked around her small sitting room, nodding slowly.

"Madi said she liked your rooms..."

Clarke felt herself stiffen as soon as she heard Madi's name, and of course Octavia noticed.

"Don't get all riled up, Clarke," she said with a small laugh. "I only ever see Madi when she comes to visit Indra or Gaia. And besides, I pledged her my loyalty. I would never go back on that."

"No, I'm sure you wouldn't," Clarke said, chiding herself for her irrational reaction.

They stood there staring at one another for a moment longer, until finally Clarke said, "So..."

Octavia smirked. "You want to know what the hell I'm doing here."

Clarke shrugged. "Kind of."

For just a moment Octavia seemed uncharacteristically hesitant, but then she took a deep breath and got to the point of her visit.

"So you and my brother are having a baby."

Clarke nodded. Everyone knew that. Why should Octavia be any different?

"Um, the thing is," Octavia hesitated once more, "There really aren't that many people left that I give a damn about, so I was just wondering... hoping, I guess... that maybe I could be a part of your baby's life. You know, like an aunt or something."

Clarke was startled. "You _will_ be the baby's aunt, Octavia. But as to being in its life, don't you think that's a question you should be asking Bellamy, not me?"

Octavia snorted. "Yeah, well, I already did that and he told me I had to ask you."

Clarke's surprise deepened.

"I don't understand. This is just as much his baby as mine. If he wants you around..."

"Cut the crap, Clarke! You know he'd never go against your wishes. Especially on something like this. Something to do with your _child_."

Clarke's heart sank as she once again recalled the events in Polis, and her deep misunderstanding of Bellamy and his motives concerning Madi. And where it had all led.

Octavia smiled ruefully. "I probably shouldn't be reminding you about that time. It wasn't exactly my finest hour."

Clarke had no idea how to respond to that, but it didn't matter, because after a moment Octavia continued anyway. And in some ways it seemed like she was talking to herself. Like she might have said these things before but only inside her head.

"In the bunker, it always felt like I was just one short step away from losing control, you know? That if I showed the smallest sign of weakness, the vultures would descend and pick me clean. And then there'd be chaos. So after a while, it just became habit to react to everything that way. Harshly. Lethally."

Clarke shrugged. "Maybe you were right, Octavia. Maybe you would have lost control. You did save a lot of people."

Octavia shook her head. "And maybe I could have saved a lot more. But... I think I listened to the wrong people. I didn't know who to trust, who had the right ideas. I should at least have listened a little to Indra, or Kane. Not that they were completely right either, but... I just had no idea how to find a middle ground."

She caught Clarke's eye and smiled self-deprecatingly.

"The middle ground has never exactly been my strength. So when they disagreed with me, all I heard was that everything I was doing was wrong. And... I wanted people around me who'd tell me I was right."

"Like Kara Cooper."

"Yeah. Like Kara. I think I always knew her ideas were extreme, but she was supportive when things got tough and I needed that support. I mean, I knew she was wrong to experiment on our people, but by then it was like... it didn't matter. All that mattered was that I was still in control."

Clarke sighed. "Octavia..."

"I've always been sorry, Clarke. That I condemned you like that. And in the end I was glad you didn't die."

She looked suddenly rueful. "I'm not exactly making a case for myself to be Aunt Octavia, am I?"

Clarke gave her a quiet smile. "Actually, I think you are. You know I've done plenty of things that I regret. Lots of them that I _bitterly_ regret. I think owning up to past mistakes shows a lot of character."

She shrugged. "And in the end, you're still Bellamy's sister. So if you want to be my child's doting aunt, and he has no objection, then please, feel free. I'll let Bellamy know I'm okay with it. That is, if we ever actually have another personal conversation."

Octavia's happy smile was the first Clarke had seen on her face in some time. "Thanks."

Clarke nodded briskly. "So, is that it? Or can I offer you some sweet tea?"

Octavia shook her head, her lips twisted in distaste. "No tea. Yeah... I guess that's it."

She turned towards the door then, but had taken only a few steps when she stopped, hesitated, and shifted around to face Clarke again.

"You know what," Octavia said in her blunt way, "maybe that's not it after all."

"No?"

"No. Before I go I'd really like to know what the fuck is going on between you and Bellamy."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean why, when Clarke Griffin is actually having his baby, is my brother going around looking like the world is coming to an end?" She snorted. "Again."

"But," Clarke frowned, certain there was no way Octavia could be unaware of the rest of the story, "you must have heard from the others that he was coerced into getting me pregnant. That we didn't really have any choice about it."

"Coerced into getting his heart's desire. Oh, what a terrible fate."

Her tone was acerbic in a way that Octavia Blake had perfected.

"His heart's desire? I don't know if that's true..."

"Dammit, Clarke! Will you cut the shit! This is me you're talking to, and we both know that my brother has been in love with you for..." her small lopsided smile was wry, "well, I guess we'd be counting it in centuries now."

"Why are you so sure about that? He was with someone else when we got here."

"Yeah, because he thought that the girl he'd been pining for all that time was dead! You think I can't read my own brother? That I didn't know how he felt about you back before praimfaya? Even when I was angry with him, I always knew he loved you."

Clarke could feel her pulse racing, her hope rising. But... "That was all a long time ago."

"A long time ago? Okay, well, how's this then? He spent years protecting me. Putting me first. I stupidly thought it would always be that way. And yet, when I condemned you, he poisoned me to save you."

In the silence that followed, Clarke gaped at Octavia. "That's not what happened!"

"And how the hell would you know what happened? As I recall, you were chained up in another room."

"Because he came to see me afterwards, so afraid for you. Afraid you wouldn't wake up. He told me he did it for his... family. From the Ring."

Octavia snorted. "Yeah? Well, I guess he left a few details out because I remember it a little different. One minute, he was standing in the doorway telling me _I_ _can't_ _let_ _you_ _kill_ _Clarke_ and the next thing I knew I was passing out on the floor."

Clarke suddenly felt faint. She reached back blindly, feeling for a chair, sitting heavily before her legs gave out.

"Hey, are you okay? Is it the baby? Should I get you some water? Or run for Abby?"

Clarke shook her head. Considering their topic of conversation, she couldn't help but note the consummate irony in Octavia's solicitous concern. All of which, she understood, was absolutely genuine.

"I'm all right," she said after a few moments. "Just... surprised. I knew I'd got it all wrong in Polis, I guess I just didn't understand _how_ wrong."

Octavia nodded slowly.

"I'm right then, aren't I? Even with everything that happened between you in Polis, you love him, too."

"So much," Clarke said softly.

"You need to tell him, Clarke, because I can see that he's kind of dying inside."

"It's just... he doesn't seem to want to talk to me, Octavia. Every time I ask him over, he finds an excuse not to come."

"So what? If he won't come here, then you go there. Go tonight. And just, goddammit, tell him!"

"But... Jordan's there..."

"I'll take care of Jordan," Octavia said. "I'll invite him to my place."

Clarke frowned. "Your place? Octavia, I know Jordan is a grown man, but please don't toy with him. He hasn't had your life experience."

"And I guess he can thank whatever gods he believes in for that." The acid tongue was back.

She shrugged. "Look, Clarke, for some reason, Jordan seems to like me. Maybe it's that he only sees Octavia because he never met Blodreina. And for me, he's part of Monty and Harper. But we're just friends. Even if he stays with me, it wouldn't be anything you need to worry about. So please don't use Jordan as an excuse."

Clarke sat there, her mind whirling. Maybe Octavia was right. Maybe she was just making up one excuse after another.

When she suddenly leaned down and threw an arm around Clarke, after all that had happened between them it should have felt strange to have Octavia embrace her with affection. But somehow it just... didn't.

"Come on, Clarke. You're the most fearless person I know. Take charge of your life."

Take charge of her life? Wasn't that exactly what she'd been trying to do?

"Okay," she said, filled with sudden determination. "Tonight it is."

XXXXXXXXXX

She and Octavia decided that the best time for her visit to Bellamy would be just after the evening meal. He'd definitely be home then but it would still be light enough outside for Clarke to make her way to his place, which was well past the other end of the square.

"I'll stop by and see Jordan now and invite him for later," Octavia said, leaving Clarke alone with her thoughts. And her worries.

By the time Madi came home, Clarke was a bundle of nerves.

"I have to go out later, Madi," Clarke told her as casually as possible while they prepared their simple meal. "So I'd like you to go to Mom's. Stay with them overnight because I, uh, might be back late."

Madi stopped in the middle of slicing bread to narrow her eyes at Clarke, but then merely nodded her agreement.

"Okay."

It was later, when Madi was giving Clarke a goodbye hug, that she asked quietly, "Are you going to see Bellamy?"

Clarke pulled back in surprise. "How did you know?"

Madi's smile was sly. "I don't think you should come home late, Clarke."

"No?" Another surprise.

"Nope," she laughed, "I don't think you should come home at all."

Then she was out the door, still laughing, before Clarke could even respond.

She shook her head. Bellamy's sister, and now her daughter? Who the hell was next? Was her mother going to suddenly come bursting in with helpful advice? She shuddered at the thought, hurrying to get dressed and leave just in case.

Bellamy's place was smaller than hers, but offered more privacy. Rather than just being rooms in a larger house, it was a free-standing two-room cabin, one of the oldest dwellings erected by the first Eligians. As she approached, she could see a light through the window and knew Bellamy was probably engaged in one of the few quiet activities he really enjoyed: reading.

Clarke told herself it was stupid to feel so nervous. This was _Bellamy_ , for god's sake. They'd been through so much and had somehow survived all of it. And now they were having this child together.

For a time she'd thought maybe that would be all she could hope for, that it would have to be enough. But now she understood that she wanted so much more. More than just a shared child, more than just friendly co-parenting. More than being a person Bellamy cared about and wanted to protect.

Clarke wanted it all.

She loved Bellamy, and wanted to share her whole life with him. And no matter what happened, if she didn't tell him, if she didn't at least try to make that happen, she'd never forgive herself.

Octavia had called her fearless, but that wasn't true. Clarke was plenty afraid. But she wasn't a coward. So she squared her shoulders, thrust her misgivings aside and rapped on Bellamy's door. Which he opened almost immediately.

"Clarke!" She read the surprise in his face when he saw her standing there. "I, uh, wasn't expecting you."

"No reason why you should be. I didn't tell you I was coming. Is it... okay?"

"Of course," he assured her, but she could see the wariness on his face when he moved aside to let her in.

"You can sit here," he said, hastily sweeping aside some papers from the tattered upholstered bench he and Jordan used for extra seating. "How's your ankle holding up?"

"Back to normal, I think." She glanced up as he hovered over her. "Uh, why don't you sit here, too? I don't really need to get a crick in my neck looking up at you."

The lopsided smile appeared then, as he finally put down his tablet and took a seat next to her on the bench.

"So, um..."

"Octavia came to see me today."

Bellamy blinked uncertainly. "About?"

"She asked about being a part of the baby's life. Being a real aunt to it."

Bellamy frowned. "I'm so sorry, Clarke. I tried to tell her you wouldn't like it, wouldn't want her around..."

"I told her it was fine, Bellamy, as long as you agreed. That every baby needs a doting aunt."

His eyes widened in surprise, "You don't mind? After what she did?"

"I've done plenty of terrible things myself. Some of them," she cleared her throat so she wouldn't choke on the regret, "some of them even to you. So I don't feel like I have any high moral ground to stand on here. And besides, she's your sister."

"Okay," he said, his tone casual. "But I guess I also thought you might not want the kid to get, you know, too attached to a lot of people around here. So that when you do leave..."

"Who the hell ever said I was leaving?" she demanded, breaking in before he could even finish voicing the thought. "Besides you, I mean."

"Isn't that why we had that meeting with Oriana and David?" Bellamy asked. "So you could be free?"

"Bellamy, I asked for that meeting so our _child_ could be free. So it wouldn't carry around the weight of expectation its whole life. And, yes, so we could all be free from the Eligians' control."

He shrugged, his face impassive, but she saw the hurt peeking around the edges. "Okay, so that means you won't have to be tied to this city. I get that. I just don't want you to feel like you have to be tied to me, either. I'm sure we can... work it out about the child..."

"Goddammit, Bellamy! Why are you doing this?"

His carefully composed expression morphed into one of puzzled shock.

"Doing what?"

"Putting up all these walls between us. We've been through so much, separately and together. So much pain and suffering and difficulties. Some of which we did to each other. But we managed to get past all that, to come through it. So why are you doing this to us now when we're settled here? When we're having this child?"

Clarke paused for a moment then before finally asking the one question she really wanted an answer to. "Why are you making yourself miserable by pretending I don't care about you?"

Bellamy's face closed, and his jaw began to clench.

"I'm not pretending anything, Clarke. I know you care about me. I'm just trying to make your life easier. Like I told you last week, I know you didn't choose me, or choose to have a baby with me..."

"But maybe I would have! If I'd thought it was even remotely possible when you came back from the Ring. But it wasn't."

They stared at one another for a moment, until Bellamy finally shook his head in frustration.

"Clarke, you're really not making this easy for me."

"Why the hell should I? Why should I make it easier for you to leave me?"

And then the tears that she'd promised herself wouldn't fall were suddenly clogging her throat and threatening to spill over.

Bellamy looked at her in astonishment. "I'm not leaving you," he practically bellowed. "You're leaving me!"

"But I'm not! I wouldn't. I don't _want_ to."

For long seconds, neither spoke, and the only sounds in the room were Bellamy's harsh breathing and Clarke's muffled sobs.

Then she made a huge effort, clearing her throat and wiping her face with her knuckles. Taking a deep breath.

"What can I say to you, Bellamy? What is it that you want from me?"

His shoulders lifted in a light shrug, but she could see him struggling, deciding exactly how to answer that question. He glanced away, closing his eyes briefly, until finally he sighed, decision made.

And turned to look her straight in the eye.

"I want you to love me, Clarke," he said simply. "I can't have it be anything less than that."

Clarke stared at him, wide-eyed, as quiet elation began to course through her.

She grabbed at his hands, trying to control her emotions.

"What the hell are you talking about, Bellamy? I _do_ love you. _Of_ _course_ I love you. How could you have thought I didn't after that afternoon in the meadow, the day we conceived this child?"

She watched him draw in a shaky breath.

"I just figured, after you said it was the right day, that everything that happened there was only because of... _that_..."

"Well, you figured wrong!" she said vehemently, "completely wrong."

Clarke couldn't seem to stop herself then from reaching up and stroking her palm lightly across his cheek, and he turned his face into her hand as though he'd been starved for her touch.

"You really want to be with me?" he whispered, like he was still afraid to believe it.

"More than anything."

And then she couldn't wait another second. She slid sideways into his lap and an instant later she was kissing him. Or maybe he was kissing her. It didn't really matter. All she knew was that his lips tasted like home.

With her mouth still fastened to his, she shifted her legs to straddle Bellamy and he went instantly hard beneath her. Clarke felt the welcome tingle in her lower body as she began to rub herself along his length. He moaned softly, finally pulling away from her.

"Christ, Clarke! We can't do this here," he said shakily, his breath coming in short pants.

"You're right. This bench is way too cramped. I'll bet your bed is a lot bigger."

"No. I meant... Jordan could come back any minute."

Clarke smiled slyly as she continued to slowly grind her moist sex along his cock.

"Jordan's not coming home, Bellamy. We have the place to ourselves." She dropped a kiss along the shell of his ear and whispered, "So I can stay all night."

"Madi?" he managed to choke out.

"At Mom's."

Bellamy huffed a strangled laugh, finally catching on. "So exactly how many people did it take to set me up here?"

"Lots and lots," she said, raining kisses along his jaw, sucking the skin on his neck into her mouth, leaving her mark there.

"Well, I'll have to thank them all later," he growled, picking her up in one easy motion and walking with her into the other room. The room that contained the only piece of furniture she was interested in right then... his bed.

Bellamy tried to lay her down gently, but she pulled at him until he was flush on top of her, and rubbed herself sinuously against him. They'd barely started making love but Clarke wanted him inside her _now_.

It had never happened to her like that before, so fast, so intense, her desire nearly overwhelming her.

"Fuck, Clarke, at least let me get my boots off or you'll have me coming in my pants like a kid."

"Okay, but hurry," she said, breathless with arousal. "I don't seem to be able to wait long..."

He got up quickly to remove his boots and pants, while she lay on the bed and kicked off her own. And then he was back on top of her, his cock feeling heavy and delicious between her legs, and an instant later he was inside her.

 _And_ , _oh_ , _god_ , _oh_ , _god_ , _he_ _felt_ _so_ _good_!

"I love fucking you," he whispered in her ear, pushing her legs apart with his knees and hands and thrusting strongly into her. "Nothing in the world feels like being inside you. I never want to leave."

And then it was all just... too much.

They'd missed each other too terribly, wanted each other too badly, needed each other too fiercely, and it had been way too long. With a cry that had Clarke arching off the bed, her cunt pulsed, clenching around him, and she climaxed heavily. And as though her pleasure was the only reason he'd been holding himself back, in a half dozen thrusts Bellamy was spilling himself into her.

He fell onto the bed beside her, moving into the narrow space on the wall side of the single bed and pulling her to him to kiss her sweetly.

"In a million years, I could never have imagined this day would end like this," he said, reaching up to stroke through the soft curls at the edge of her hairline, and then down across her cheek to caress her lips. As though maybe he still couldn't quite believe she was really there.

Clarke savored every gentle touch of his strong fingers.

"Clarke." He breathed out her name in a way that made her whole body shiver.

"Yes?"

"I love you," he whispered. "I've loved you for a long time." He smiled at her. "Well, for centuries, I guess."

"Yeah, yeah," she smiled back, "it's always the same joke."

Bellamy laughed softly. "What if I just say I've loved you since before praimfaya? Or maybe even... almost as long I've known you."

Clarke moved her head to kiss him tenderly. "I've loved you for a long time, too, Bellamy. There's always been this... connection between us, you know? Even when we didn't know what it meant."

"I do know," he said. "I know exactly."

He pulled her towards him, wrapping her in his arms, and began to stroke along her arm and shoulders, down her back and across her naked ass. When she heard his breathing change, she felt an answering wetness between her legs, and knew they were both becoming aroused again.

"You can't possibly have any idea how many times I've thought about that day in the meadow," he said, continuing to caress her body with sure hands.

"I think I might have some idea," she whispered, burying her face in his neck.

"Yeah?" His voice was low and sexy. "Then maybe you wouldn't mind taking off your shirt now so I can suck your tits."

"Only if you take off your shirt, too," she said, eager for another glimpse of the smooth planes of his heavily-muscled chest.

In seconds, they were both completely naked, and Bellamy's eyes narrowed as he studied her lush curves.

"I dreamed about these," he said, palming both breasts, lifting them up to feel their weight in his hands. "But they seem bigger than I remember."

Clarke laughed quietly. "It's the baby, Bellamy. Pregnancy does that."

Bellamy's eyes widened and he looked suddenly stricken, quickly pulling his hands away from her. "Oh, shit, did anything we do hurt the baby? Could it?"

She shook her head, grabbing his hands and placing them back on her body. "Not at all. In fact," she added with a smirk, "I've heard that pregnant women want sex all the time. That sometimes it's all they can think about."

Bellamy groaned, laughing a little but clearly relieved. "Are you gonna wear me out?"

"I hope so," she said, and then she was pulling him down and they were kissing again, before Bellamy slid lower and began to suck on her right tit.

"Oh, god," she moaned, "every time I thought about you doing that it made me wet. Every single time."

"Yeah?" His voice was gruff. "And did you think about it often?"

She nodded, breathing heavily. "I couldn't seem to stop, even though I tried. Because then I'd want you too much. It was torture."

Bellamy licked across her breast and moved to her left nipple. "Tell me about it," he said, continuing to lick and suck until Clarke could barely stand it.

Then she felt his fingers between her legs, stroking her labia, brushing against her clit. Inside her.

"I'll be right back," he said, abruptly rising from the bed and padding out to the small bathroom. He was back in a few moments with a basin of water and a couple of cloths.

"What are you doing?" she asked, mystified.

"I want to put my mouth on you, Clarke. Down there." He began to wash between her legs with the warm water. "I want to suck on you and tongue your clit. But I don't want to taste me," he told her. "I'd much rather taste you."

Clarke pulled herself up on her elbows, watching as he drew the wet cloth along her sex, cleaning the semen from her springy curls, and then wiping her dry. Bellamy might have said he was cleaning her, but every stroke of those cloths between her legs was so sensual, so erotic, that by the time he was finished she was so totally turned on that as soon as his tongue touched her she came. Hard.

Bellamy chuckled quietly. "Maybe we can try that again," he said, when her breathing finally slowed.

"How about if we make each other feel good?" She smiled at him lazily. "I think I see something down there I might like."

His cock was long and thick, hard again, and she wanted to put her mouth on it, just like she had that day in the meadow.

"Yeah," he said, lying back on the bed, "but I don't want to hurt you. Turn around and crawl on top of me with your legs up here."

Clarke was a little embarrassed by how eager she was to do this with Bellamy, moving quickly along his body to take him into her mouth. That was arousing enough - the smell of him, the taste of him, the intimacy of what she was doing to him - but when he pulled her legs around his head and put his mouth on her lips, his tongue on her clit... and inside her... Clarke came again.

She couldn't remember ever having that many orgasms, couldn't remember ever feeling so continuously aroused. She wasn't sure if it really was her pregnancy, or if it was just Bellamy. Or maybe it was simply that she was no longer trying to hold back.

As the two of them pleasured each other, she could feel the vibrations as Bellamy moaned his excitement into her sex. Unbelievably, arousal had begun to build in her again when Bellamy suddenly lifted her up, swung her around and rolled on top of her.

"I want to be inside you when I come," he said, breathless.

And then he was stroking into her hard and fast, and thrusting his tongue into her mouth, and she could taste herself on him, and she could hardly believe how good it all felt. In moments, Bellamy had climaxed again, and Clarke was amazed at how satisfying it was to be able to give someone she loved that much pleasure.

"I can't fucking believe how much you turn me on," he said, pulling her to him and covering them both with his blanket.

Clarke laughed as she snuggled into him. "Likewise."

Bellamy sighed into her ear. "I'll tell you a secret, Clarke," he whispered. "Getting you pregnant was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."

"What?" She tried to turn and look at him but she was too tightly wrapped in his arms. "Harder than seeing your mother floated? Harder than leaving me behind in praimfaya?"

"No, of course not. Those were the _worst_ things I've ever had to deal with, fucking awful things that happened to people I loved, and I had no control over them. What I meant was that I had to work so hard at pretending that we could have sex and it wouldn't affect me. Pretend I didn't want you, when all the time it was what I wanted most."

Clarke sighed, sliding more more tightly against him, laying her head on his arm. "I was pretending, too, Bellamy."

When he huffed out a laugh she could feel his warm breath across her cheek. "We're a couple of idiots," he said.

"Speak for yourself," she objected tartly, but it came out on the end of a yawn.

"I think you need to get some sleep," she heard Bellamy murmur, just before her eyes fluttered shut.

She awoke with a start, trying to judge how long she'd been out, but from the pressure on her bladder she figured it must have been at least a couple of hours. When she returned from her trip to the tiny bath, Clarke could see that Bellamy's eyes were open.

"Hey, did I wake you? Sorry."

He shrugged. "These beds aren't really meant for two people."

"Do you want me to move across to Jordan's bed?" she offered. "Let you get some sleep?"

"Don't you fucking dare," he smiled, stretching his arm up to grab her around the waist and pull her onto the bed.

Bellamy reached around and began to rub across her belly.

"You're still so flat here."

She nodded. "Mom says everyone is different. But I'm sure the pregnancy will start to show any day now."

"You know," he said, continuing to stroke across her belly, then gradually moving his hand lower to caress her through her curls, "when you get bigger, we're going to have to find another way to make love. One that won't hurt you."

Clarke shivered when she heard the change in the timbre of Bellamy's voice, and when he pulled her back against him, she could feel that he was hard again.

"Oh?" she said, breathless, beginning to feel the telltale tingle in her own body.

"Yeah. Have you ever had sex like this?" he asked, whispering his question into her ear.

"I don't think so."

"No? Well, if you just lift your left leg a little... that's good right there," he said as she raised her leg and moved it back over his hip. A moment later she felt him slide into her from behind, hot and heavy and perfect.

"Oh, fuck, it feels so good like this," she said, suddenly incredibly aroused.

"Good," he breathed. "Now turn your head back towards me just a little. Perfect."

And then he bent his head and was kissing her hard, his tongue stroking into her mouth in the exact same rhythm that his heavy cock was stroking into her cunt, while his deft fingers reached around to play with her clit.

They didn't last long. Clarke came first in a sudden rush of sensation, and seconds later she felt Bellamy splashing inside her.

"Oh, god," she said, breathing hard. "I didn't expect that to happen when I got up to pee."

"No? Well, I guess we're both going to have to get used to the unexpected from now on."

He wrapped her in his arms again, and seconds later they were both sound asleep.

When Clarke woke a second time, the grayish sunlight of early morning was streaming through the single window and Bellamy was already awake and dressed.

"You're up," he said, smiling at her, leaning down to kiss her softly. "I have to meet with Kane and some of the Eligians this morning about permanent homes for our people. But you stay there as long as you want."

"No." Clarke threw off the single blanket. "I need to get going before Jordan really does come home."

She frowned down at the thin sheet. "We made a real mess of your bed."

Clarke was astonished to see the normally self-contained Bellamy throw back his head and laugh.

"Don't worry about it, I'll deal with it later. And I'll be happy to take that kind of mess anytime at all."

A few minutes later, they'd left Bellamy's small cabin and were sauntering companionably down the hill towards the plaza. Clarke thought about how many times she'd walked beside this man in exactly this way, matching him stride for stride. Dozens of times. Maybe even hundreds.

But today, it all felt entirely different.

When Bellamy reached out and grabbed her hand, she glanced up at him, surprised.

"Are we making an announcement?"

He shrugged. "Yes... unless you don't want to..."

But when he would have pulled his hand away, she held on tight.

"I do want to. I very much want to."

They'd nearly reached the Government Building when Clarke looked up to see John Murphy approaching. She quirked a brow at Bellamy, but he shrugged, squeezing her hand tighter.

His expression couldn't have said more clearly, _Might_ _as_ _well_ _get_ _it_ _over_ _with_.

But Murphy barely broke his stride, merely glancing down at their linked hands with an exaggerated smirk. As they passed, he nodded, muttering, "It's about damn time."

Clarke looked up at Bellamy and grinned. "Announcement successful."

XXXXXXXXXX

Soon after, Clarke took Oriana up on her offer for larger quarters, and she and Bellamy and Madi all moved into a small house of their own. One which also had plenty of space for the eagerly-awaited prophecy child.

As Clarke's pregnancy began to show, as her belly became rounder and her body became fuller, she found the people of Eligius smiling at her as she made her way through the city. Even though they'd been told that their deliverance had already occurred, they still wanted to meet the miracle child, still were intrigued by its mother.

Clarke had had a fairly easy pregnancy, so she'd been sure that her baby would choose a convenient and orderly time for its birth. But in this she was wrong. Only thirty-nine weeks after their picnic in the meadow, Bellamy awoke in the middle of the night to find that Clarke's water had broken and she was heavily in labor.

"I don't think I can walk," she told him through gritted teeth.

But Bellamy was already dressed, had already sent Madi off to get Abby, was already scooping Clarke up in his arms, grateful that their new home was much nearer the clinic than his old place.

"Hang onto me, Clarke," he said. "I'm going to be moving fast."

When they reached the clinic door, she stopped him with her hand. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this," she said, a sudden spurt of panic hitting between contractions.

He smiled at her. "I think you are. I think we both are. And at least we've already picked out names."

But a new contraction hit then, stronger than the others and there was no time for more chat.

Other than picking a very inconvenient time, the prophecy child's birth was relatively quick and uncomplicated, and as soon as Clarke looked down at her child all doubt and anxiety melted away.

"Madi's here," Bellamy said quietly, kissing Clarke sweetly over their newborn's head. "Eager for a look at the baby. Should I get her?"

"Definitely," Clarke smiled. "After all, she is the big sister."

A minute later, Madi was running in, grinding to a halt when she saw that the baby was asleep in Clarke's arms.

"Oh," she said softly, as though just then realizing how very small newborns were. "So is it a Baby Rory," she whispered, "or a Baby Jacob?"

"Come and see for yourself," Clarke told her, smiling. In fact, she couldn't seem to stop smiling.

At Madi, at her new child, at Bellamy by her side.

At all the new possibilities that life had somehow handed her.


End file.
